So the Outrigger Hotel in Waikiki has this “Catamaran Sunset Sail” thing, right? Two hours.  Ocean.  Sunset.  Booze.
With my man by my side, I had all my favorite things packed into one boat.
“Alcohol is free, and it’s two hours,” Damon told me.  “You have to make it worth your while.”  (Sad thing is, he didn’t have to tell me this.  Mention “free” and “alcohol” in the same sentence, and I begin to salivate ferociously.)  The hotel’s signature drink, “The Rigger,” was tasty. I’d imagine it was not much different than the punch served at Hawaiian frat parties. So I had three, plus a champagne toast at sunset. This was our bartender,  James Chops.

And this — I shit you not — was our Captain:

We had been making references all week long to the scuba instructor character on Along Came Polly.  (You know, the guy who steals Ben Stiller’s wife away?)  He was THAT guy.

“You like scoo-bah? C’mun, I take you scoo-bah.”

While I was getting toasted, Damon took these lovely pictures of the view…

GUESS, GUESS! GUESS who is MORE DRUNK!!!

I stabalized myself for one good picture at sunset.

The most entertaining moment of this evening, perhaps, was when I came off the catamaran.  I was stepping down the ladder, onto the shore (and only about knee-length water at this point), when my flip flop slipped off my foot.  My instinct, then — for my one flip flop, the value of which amounts to approximately $1.50 — was to reach and grab it.  Except with the whole tide/current/DRUNK thing, I was totally knocked on my ass, into the water, in my regular clothes.

Which would have been really embarrassing.
But I was hammered.
So I laughed until my stomach ached.

I proceeded to have a marvelous time, galloping around Waikiki at night, completely soaked to the bone, and loving it.