I’ve been to a million parties in my life. I’ve only given names to three. I’ve spoken here previously about Mean Ugly Guys (MxUxGx, pronounced mug like the root beer, who became Chokebore with reasonable success in Europe), and the Rastafaris and Laurie; that one is The Party Laurie Gave Out 97 invitations in Waikiki before we saw Who’s That Girl with Madonna at Waikiki 3 when they still had actual theaters and not 300-screen complexes and she promised to go easy. Very cool ‘zine-style invite. We had 100. When we got back to the car, “How many invites are left?” “3.” And the dice were cast. Was it a good idea to have mud wrestling in a kiddie pool because I wanted to see Nicole in a bikini? In hindsight, probably not. But, people still talk about that party 33 years later; most of it sounds like a lie, but I was there. And it happened. It happened.
Lo, tangentially related to our mind set, remember midnight Rocky Horror at the Queen Theater in Kaimuki and walking in early to the porn scenes from Caligula? Let’s do the Time Warp.
There was the Godzilla party; so named because there was a six-foot inflatable Godzilla in the pool. And all the drunk, mostly hot, haole Kalaheo girls stood smoking and drinking in feathered hair fading 80’s glory. Whoever’s house it was, ate some serious shit because her parents came home in the middle of it to find their yippy dogs yipping in the hall closet where someone put them in the course of the party. I’m pretty sure we were in Aikahi. We scattered like roaches when the blue lights flashed. H3, then Alan’s Bridge. But on our way out, I did see the biggest asshole who ever was, Officer Bohol of Honolulu’s finest. Uncompromising and jealous of the life force of teenagers. Earlier that year he had issued me a no seat belt ticket and asked me how tall I was.
“Height?” “Five, ten.” “No. You five, eight.” “Then why’d you ask?” He scraped my face with my driver’s license. Later that year or maybe the next, after the MUG party, he punched my friend Dylan at Alan’s Bridge. Long story short the guy was a dick.
The third party was Megan White Fox. It was the first time I ever smelled sex. And the first time I’d ever seen cocaine. Megan was this super-hot, impossibly blonde white girl at a time I still self-identified as brown.
So it all makes sense.