With my Mai-tai in one hand and my dignity in another, I walk into the Luau by myself hoping to get a head-start on all the free alcohol before my family arrives and judges me over it. Sauntering around aimlessly as a plethora of tourists and guests meander into the festivities, I now double-fist my Mai-Tai and Pina Colada while scoping out with whom I’d be spending the next three hours at this little hula dancing show. Perhaps there will be some gorgeous, broken-English speaking dark, burly island man wearing nothing but a loin cloth and doing nothing but grunting and thrusting for me to fantasize about later. Here’s hoping *crossing fingers*! As I stumble tipsily around on the grass in my strappy stilettos, I notice JUST THAT TYPE of island man standing in the center of the field as happy, excited, overweight Asian tourists (all ladies, surprise, surprise) bask and balk at the thought of being able to grip this guy’s bicep while throwing up peace signs and giggles at the camera. He’s about 6’1, with caramel cream skin, and a fuckin rockin body you could file your nails on it’s so AMAZINGLY cut and rigid. He’s wearing a beige straw hat and a weird dark brown wooden necklace that resembles anal beads. Completely shirtless exposing a set of random tribal tattoos all over his half-naked body, he’s also rocking a little purple and yellow tie-up skirt, which I immediately picture myself untying the second I see it. I smile endearingly shaking my head as he stands there flexing while little tourist ladies clap and smile and rub up against him for pictures. BOOM. Holy shit WOW! He’s mine.
What I normally do when I find somebody to maliciously maul and molest with my sexual prowess, I like to scale the perimeter by doing a circular stalking walk around my prey, making note of others in the hunt and his reactions to the feeble attempts of my competition involved, much akin to that of the male lion preparing to savagely rape the antelope…or DEVOUR the antelope, SORRY! As I sashay around in my purple and pink Hawaiian print spandex dress, I see Jester and Diva making their way in.
Diva: *rushing over to me, her voice high pitched with over-excitement* HOLY SHIT JAY! Did you see that Hula dancer?! He’s so fuckin hot man let’s go take pictures with him!
Me: *disgusted and too proud* Ugh! Fuck no! We are NOT going to be one of those tourists Diva! They look pathetic. And I’m gonna FUCK HIM, HELLO!!!!! I’m not gonna TAKE A PICTURE with him I’m going to take my CLOTHES off WITH him.
Rolling her eyes at my explanation, Diva grabs my hand and rushes me over to the line. UGH FUCK NO YOU ARE RUINING MY MASTER PLAN, DIVA! Jester gets in line too, as the three of us stand and stare in utter amazement at how unbelievably beautiful such a beast can be. RAWR. Attempting to appear as blase and uninterested as possible, I sip both my drinks and discuss the Heat/Mavs game with Diva. She’s rooting for the Mavs, I’m rooting for the Heat (because it made fucking sense at the time LEBRON AND D-WADE COME ON!) Now at the front of the line, Diva and I are engaged in a heated debate over who the better team is and who the fuck is REALLY gonna win the game tonight when BIG BURLY ISLAND MAN motions for us to come hither. Again, in efforts to seem completely unphased by how beautiful a being he is, I make a point to keep discussing this topic with Diva, refraining from making eye contact with the guy or even looking at him to begin with, as Diva excitedly grabs onto one of his arms and throws me on the other side of him, now motioning for Jester to TAKE THE PICTURE DAMMIT! I hold onto his one arm and give a little THIS IS FUCKING BULLSHIT smile as Jester SNAP SNAP SNAPS away and gives us a thumbs up. Right before letting go just yet, I make a point to run my fingers down his bicep and across his hip, tracing the skin above the seem of his little purple loin cloth with my fingers, stating in a bored tone of voice, “Hmm…look at that” as he watches me in silence. This move right here signifies that I do in fact notice how easy it would be to unravel his little garment and ride him like a wild Hawaiian warthog but could give two shits about doing so because I’m just not interested enough, which is completely contrary to what all the other women have done so far. Once done, I grab Diva and rip her from her grasp and move about a couple feet to the side to finish our extremely necessary and highly important basketball debate, making a point to not go too far but not stay too close. Within about three minutes, I feel a tap on my shoulder. Turning around, I see the my beefy tourist attraction island man standing behind me, all staunch, stern, and staring me down as he states in a monotonously monosyllabic fluid grunt, “I heard you talking about the basketball game I am also interested in that game I want the Heat to win” as if it were all one sentence and with no change in tone or expression with a completely flat affect and holding his gaze tightly on mine. Now highly amused and satisfied with myself, I keep my eyes fixed on his as I give a chuckle, shake my head a little as I can’t possibly believe how fuckin money I am, and reply with, “Ha…me too. If our team wins we’re totally celebrating so you better brace yourself baby” winking and slyly smiling to my right before turning around and walking away. BOOM. And that’s how it’s done.
My entire family now in tow, we all take our seats RIGHT DEAD CENTER in front of the stage as the hula dancing show begins. What can I say about the show? It was fuckin cute I guess. As the hula dancers all shake their grass skirts and scream and shriek across the stage, the arena of about 350 guests all OOOOOOOH and AHHHHH, making sure to clap after each segment, while a 65-year-old one-hit-wonder of a host sings his ONE HIT in between acts (can’t remember the guy’s name for the life of me but he looked like a mix of Wayne Newton and Elizabeth Taylor…present day). About an hour or so into the show now, the host explains that the NEXT dancer will uhh do some crazy shit with fire and shit (the true explanation of such a performance currently escapes me…but my description quite accurately sums it up) when out comes my island man toting and twirling around two flaming batons, eyes bulging wildly as he shrieks and screams and grunts out loud to the beat of the bongos. I find myself getting hotter and hotter as my hula dancer tosses the flaming batons up in the air while I simultaneously picture him tossing me around on either the beach, the hotel, the field, or a flaming pit of fire…whichever one will do. His eyes are bulging fiercely out of his head and his tongue dances wildly from his mouth as I go on to further picture that tongue doing the same thing in my ass. YAHTZEE!!!!!! Before I can explode with anticipation and excitement, I turn around to see that every. single. other. woman. in the arena of (AGAIN) three hundred and fifty people is drooling and dry-humping her seat as we all collaboratively watch the fire blaze around and the sweat drip down his dancing and prancing muscular physique. Fuck. Now done with his lil routine, the hula dancer drops down and begins doing push-ups as all the ladies whistle, cheer, and orgasm in unison. Walking off the stage and passing my way, he makes a point to look right at me and offer a wink and an air-kiss while continuing to go back stage. Oh I’m soooooo money baby. All these bitches are gonna kick my ass when they find out that I tapped his. One of my cardinal rules in being single is to never ever ever fight another lady for a man, either figuratively or literally. It’s just not lady-like. We’re already cast into the predetermined stereotype that we’re all desperate as fuck to get married and settle down and willing to stop at NOTHING to do so and that we’re all back-stabbing catty cunts who plot and connive against each other for the sake of dick. Ugh (pardon me while I step down from my soap box to finish my story). Hmm….that’s a LOT of ladies fantasizing about fucking him at this point. Should I abort my mission? Naaaaaa. Fuck that, don’t hate the player hate the game cuz this shit is going doooooooooown *brushing off shoulders*….