Waikiki
It was actually Haitian refugees, Mitchell. Weren’t you paying attention? I said it very clearly, while tripping over a tree trunk on the way back to our limo, after my fourth and fifth drinks of the night. That’s why you’re the intern and I’m… What am I, exactly? Not quite hammered, but definitely drunk. My notebook is starting to get a little looser at this point.
Once you get over yourself, Waikiki turns out to be tons of fun. At least I think it does–while Lewers Lounge is one of my favorites, this is the part of the evening where my age caught up with me. Again I tried to flirt with our server, and again I failed: this time it was over the name of a drink. I’ll let others relate that part. All I know for sure is that I was the first to start fading–as we walked up Lewers Street, I turned to Mitchell and said, “I’m drunk, man.” He glanced over. “Really? Hmm.” So much for experience.
Pane and Vino is mostly a blur for me (I know there was something in there about the relationship between the Yakuza and regular Japanese men) and In Between, well…let’s just say this was the part where everything started going sideways for me. And in circles. And up and down. All of it. –Ragnar Carlson
Margot Seeto
Pane and Vino was the next Waikiki stop. Although the smell of boiled pasta and sweaty parmesan cheese coupled with a cheap wine list may not sound appealing, it’s clear why food writer Lesa Griffith chose Pane and Vino as one of her five favorite restaurant atmospheres on the island in the Weekly’s last food and drink issue. Old wooden rafters above, soft glowing dim lighting and an attentive staff make the ambience worth the trip. It’s a good place to get away, as the majority of the clientele are Japanese tourists. The chances of seeing someone you know feel slim. Back to the wine. I don’t even remember what bottle we shared. But it was red. Our glasses were cute. I didn’t really drink too much of mine. I was trying to soldier on.
I’ve been to Hula’s a handful of times and it’s always been a party. Going to the small In Between, tucked away in an alley, was a different perspective on the gay bar scene in Waikiki. Aside from the two pints–of water–I had, the funniest thing that stood out was the choice of karaoke selections by the clientele. I’m used to cheesy ’80s rock ballads, ’80s and ’90s rap and the occasional indie hit. But Puddle of Mudd and One Republic? Depressing. At least the guys who sang were good. But they couldn’t compare to Adrienne’s rendition of Notorious B.I.G.’s “Big Poppa.” And we all waved our hands in the air. Well, we did, and the two guys at the table next to us were being nice.
Mitchell Kuga
We leave UH at 7:22. Lady Gaga’s “Just Dance” plays in the limo as news breaks via Twitter that the password for Prohibition has been leaked by a journalist from another paper.
Unattributed reaction: “What a bitch!”
And in perhaps the crème de la crème of jarring juxtapositions, we enter the koa-paneled walls of Lewers Lounge at the Halekulani. One word comes to mind: sex. This is the stuff of romances from a bygone era when men dressed in three-piece suits and smoking was considered sexy. The wood walls and soft, atmospheric lighting gets me all hot and bothered. At 7:56, I order a ginger lychee caipirissima: a sharp, delicious cocktail that tastes nothing like lychee. For “dessert” I have a chocolate espresso martini, which comes equipped with a chocolate straw and is, somewhat magically, clear. At $12 a pop, I realize these are probably the most expensive cocktails I’ve ever consumed and resist going to the restroom and wasting it.
Ragnar: “Can I order a Ragnar?”
Server (without flinching): “Sure”
(three minutes later)
Server: “I’m sorry can you say that one more time?”
Ragnar: “Rag-nar.”
Server (without flinching): “OK! No problem!”
(three minutes later)
Server (flinching): “Sorry, um, can you tell me what’s in a Ragnar?”
After taking a 15-minute walk, we enter Pane and Vino at 9:13, an unassuming wine bar serving Italian food. It smells like burnt pizza. There’s so much wood and candles you feel like you’re in a swanky cabin. We ordered a bottle of wine, a dicey choice considering the mix of drinks we’ve consumed.
Quote from Adrienne that summarizes the restaurant: “You don’t come here for the drinks. You don’t come here for the food. You come here for the atmosphere. I mean, isn’t it incredible?!”
In Between, which is in between a non-descript alleyway, is the diviest gay bar in Hawaii, and one of the few karaoke joints where the patrons can actually sing. Shortly after 10, someone sang Garth Brooks “Friends in Low Places” with all the hiccupy charm of a southern gentleman in worn Levi’s. More stereotypically, there was a rendition of Rihanna’s “Take a Bow” sung with expressive hand motions.
Unattributed quote: “Wow the karaoke selection is so different at gay bars.”
Highlight: at 10:36, Adrienne’s white-girl-from-the-‘burbs remix of “Big Poppa.”
“I see some ladies tonight who should be having my baby, baby!”
