A Tale of Jellyfish Jeff or Adventures of Pee Boy
I’m updating my blog back here in L.A., in my office at work, totally depressed that I’m not still on Oahu enjoying the Spirit of Aloha. Sorry for the hiatus in posting – after that last one about Diamond Head, the wireless connection at my hotel sputtered out. Over the next few days though, I’ll be posting pictures and writing about the rest of my week in paradise (actually, not. Seems that Blogger had some technical issues this week, so this post has been delayed a few days. I'll be back to posting regularly, and finishing up my Hawaii posts next week. Ahh, technology.). Here’s what happened later that day:After trekking down from the edge of the Diamond Head crater back to my rental car (a Chevy Cobalt, if I haven’t mentioned), I drove back to my hotel and waited for Fig’s best man, Robert, to pick me up on his way to a BBQ Fig and Courtney had planned. I found a note in the hotel room from my mom, saying she had gone on adventures in shopping and food with her Aunt and not to worry about her as she’d be occupied all night. After a quick shower and a call from Robert, I left the hotel and went to the ABC Store (think a tropical 7-11 on almost every corner in Waikiki, even more ubiquitous than Starbucks) and bought some cheap goggles and a white chocolate Twix candy bar, since I’d never seen one before (was good). I walked the half block back to the hotel just in time to see Robert and Amanda (friend of Courtney) pull up in Robert’s rental - a convertible Mustang with the top down - which put my Cobalt to shame. I quickly hopped in and we were off to the BBQ on the northeast side of Oahu in Kailua, taking the H1 to the Pali Highway to get there.
The drive along the Pali Highway is beautiful; vibrant greens of lush plants and tall trees cover dark, volcanic mountains. We drove through this for about 20 minutes before getting into Kailua where we got lost on back roads a couple of times and stopped at a Longs Drugs to get vodka, soda, chips and salsa. Eventually, however, we found the road to the Bed and Breakfast Fig and Courtney were renting, a cute place with a lanai from which you could see Lanikai beach, which was within walking distance.
After suiting up and meeting more of their friends at the house, we all walked down to the beach for a swim. It was all good fun until the attack. Now, I’ve got to preface this by saying I didn’t really feel like swimming this day. I was completely content to just lie on the warm sand and get some sun, perhaps knowing on some level that dangers lurked within the false security of the tranquil waters of Lanikai, but Fig insisted that I get in the water, and isn’t it bad luck to piss off the groom a couple days before his wedding?
I eventually relented; grabbing Fig's swim fins, my goggles and tossing away my shirt, I headed toward the water. It took a couple of minutes, as the water felt cool to the touch, but I eventually submerged myself beyond my ankles and began looking for shells and diving for sand crabs and such in the salty water. This went on for 30 minutes or so when I suddenly felt a small sting on my left arm. I thought at first it was a small cut or abrasion getting irritated by the saltwater but then, a couple seconds later, the sting became more of a burning sensation. I suddenly started wiping my arm off with my other hand trying to figure out what was causing the pain. I stood up in the water (it was quite shallow) and tore off my goggles to see if I could find anything on my arm. Nothing was there, only a slight redness, but the pain intensified. Fig saw me pawing at the wound and fearfully asked what was going on. Trying to keep the pain at bay, I told him through gritted teeth, "I am stung," and quickly made my way out of the water onto the beach where I then collapsed, consumed by a new wave of intense pain. Upon seeing my prone form, which began to slightly convulvse, everyone made a run from the water in a near panic. I managed to get to my feet as we all grabbed our stuff and ran from Satan's Beach, now boiling with angry jellyfish. The redness around my arm began to swell further, blistering before my very eyes and forming a band of swollen pain around my forearm. By the time we got back to the house all seemed lost and I began to come to terms with losing the arm. In desperation, Fig grabbed my arm and poured vodka over the accursed blood ring but to no avail: the pain only intensified.Courtney made some urgent calls to her family and confirmed my worst fear:
that someone was going to have to urinate on my arm to save it. Everyone was pleading with me to do so, but curiously, no one was volunteering. I, of course, wouldn’t relent, for fear of being known as "Pee Boy" the rest of the evening - losing the arm would be worth being spared that indignity. By this time Sarah, a relative of Courtney's who knew of "Island things", had arrived and concurred with the urine diagnosis. I was under extreme pressure to actually follow through but I was hoping against hope that another solution would appear. It was not to be. In the end, I’m not saying what depths I sank to in order to keep my arm, but suffice to say, I took care of the problem and the pain and swelling abated. The crisis, for now, was over.
The rest of the evening consisted of us partying on the lanai, eating burgers Fig barbecued, drinking, and having a great time. The weather was perfect, and when night started falling, Courtney made a dessert by barbecuing pineapple glazed with brown sugar or something, and we all enjoyed it. When most everyone had left later in the evening, and it was down to Courtney, Fig, Amanda, Robert and I, I figured what better way to enjoy the warm, Hawaiian night under the stars, than by playing New Super Mario Bros. on the Nintendo DS! Fig had his DS and I had mine, so we all took turns playing head-to-head Mario against each other, although Robert chose to stick to Bejeweled 2 on my Treo. Ahhhh…good times.Robert, Amanda and I eventually left Fig and Courtney to make the trip back to Waikiki, and a light rain began to fall just as we were getting off the Pali Highway. Robert pulled over to put the top up, and of course, as soon as we had it fastened down, the rain stopped. I think it must’ve been some Hawaiian gods playing with us (where were they during the attack? God knows I prayed to them for sweet deliverance). My mom has a couple of ghost stories about the Pali Highway, but that's a story for another post as this one has gone on a bit long.
I’ll end, however, with this thought: if you don’t have meat tenderizer, use pee: it works. I’m just saying.
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