June 5, 2004
One of my favorite ways to spend a Sunday after a hard night of drinking was to hit up Duke’s in Waikiki and kick it at the beach. It was always a safe bet that there would be tons of cool chicks, a few asshole tourists, maybe a steel-drum band, lots of sunshine, a plethora of delicious boozy cocktails, stellar grub …and Catamarans. It’s basically a huge pontoon boat with a sail. The cruises are run by a local company and they serve $2.00 Mai-Tais… As long as you don’t mind pissing in a head the size of a refrigerator, you’re golden.
On this particular day — a Saturday — one of the more senior guys in our division was getting married, so they were having their rehearsal party slash bachelor/bachelorette party down in Waikiki. Guido had gotten to be good friends with this group of people. I know it sounds fucked up that at a small command like a submarine, which has a total compliment of about 120 guys, has cliques. Most cliques were tied together somehow, of course, but I wasn’t officially in this clique. The dude getting married was in my division so he invited me.
Our hero, Guido, started to hit the sauce way too early, say 8 am and by the time the sunset catamaran cruise rolled around, he is nothing short of stupid drunk. I mean, just an embarrassing pile of shit. Obnoxious drunk, puking over the side of the boat, not heeding the “advice” of the catamaran crew, trying to pick fights. Just a total nightmare.
The crew and operators of these catamarans are the most laid back people on the face of the planet. I mean, look at what they do for a living. They run boat rides out in the ocean out of Waikiki, Hawai’i. It takes a lot to piss them off.
As we were pulling back onto the beach and disembarking from this fiasco of a ride, the crew come up to us and ask…
“What’s your friend’s name?”
We didn’t know why they were asking, so we replied…
“Guido” not thinking anything of it.
The big Samoan motherfucker with tats everywhere informs us:
“Well, he’s no longer allowed on our cruises. I know what he looks like, and now I know his name. You’d better tell him that if I catch him on one of our boats again…ever, I’ll throw him to the sharks.”
We took the guy seriously, apologized and went home.
We told Guido the next day what the skinny was and he just asked incredulously..
“Why?! What the fuck did I do??”
Aside: Guido once thought that the word ‘douche’ was something that a girl secretes from her vagina. Also, Guido was once quoted as saying, “It’s not that I’m stupid…I just don’t think.” Well, obviously Guido.
*My entry a few days after this incident: If ignorance is bliss, Guido has got to be the happiest motherfucker on earth!*