Hey. It's me. I'm back. The beach was fun but all good things must come to an end. Well, the beach didn't come to an end... but my white skin had definitely had enough.
And now it's nearing Wednesday. Actually it's still Tuesday night... but only in Hawaii. It's already Wednesday in the real world.
Wednesday. The day that we were originally scheduled to return to the 'Mainland' (I just love saying that. 'Mainland.' Makes me feel like a real Hawaiian... never mind my painfully white skin, with a hint of pink.)
And Wednesday... the day that Elizabeth and I decided to walk along the beach, just to see if we could see any happenings on the military base next door. You see, Elizabeth is husband hunting. And has been for THIS ENTIRE TRIP! Oy vey.
This week she's decided she's in the market for a military guy and could we please walk down the boardwalk and see if we could find one to marry?
And so we did. However, we couldn't find Fort deRussy, the base/hotel that I've always known was right next door to the Hilton Hawaiian Village. Fort deRussy, the military hotel that offers incredible discounts at their 'just as nice' hotel on Waikiki beach. Yep, that Fort deRussy.
Didn't find anyone for Liz to marry, but what the heck, we found something better. We found the Hale Koa Hotel. Somehow IT was right next door to the Hilton Hawaiian Village instead of Fort deRussy. But oh well, there were some great stores there. Great stores! And Liz and I headed in.
Our arms were loaded with merchandise that we hadn't seen before. Better stuff than the usual tourist stuff. Liz found a bathing suit. I found a cap for Rick and then my eyes set on a gorgeous bracelet that I HAD TO HAVE or I just might die.
Plus a host of other items. Yep, this store at the Hale Koa Hotel was as near to heaven as I thought I could get, here on earth.
And then we tried to check out. The joke was on us.
The Hale Koa? Suddenly the meanest hotel I'd ever been in. Suddenly it wasn't a real hotel. Or a real store. The Hale Koa turned out to be... Fort deRussy. And the store we were in? The Post Exchange. If you have any military words in your vocabulary, you'll know that the Base Exchange (in Air Force terms) and the Post Exchange (in Army terms) are two of the greatest places to shop. Good stuff, cheap prices. But they won't let just anyone shop there. And they certainly wouldn't let me. Or Liz.
There went my dreams of bringing home a gorgeous, diamond heart bracelet. There went Liz' dreams of bringing home a spouse. And there went Rick's dreams of owning an Air Force - Hawaii cap. There went all of our dreams. Just like that.
So here we sit. Banned from the Post Exchange. Hatless, braceletless and husbandless.