His Holiness the Dalai Lama is crystal clear on riling up passion: it whets the appetite and perpetuates the cycle of desire and suffering. But His Holiness is not infallible. He tends to be correct; however he can be wrong every few decades.
For my mental health and the future enlightenment of all sentient beings, I put on my black tube top, brushed my teeth, and decided to hitch hike to the beach town with all the hot hippies, Paia. I slipped my crystal into my pocket to remind myself to stop at some point and Think.
My friend dropped me off in a mountain town seven miles above Paia and I went to the cemetery, a perfect hitching point with a good view and a large pullover. I put Umiko on speaker phone to keep me company and stuck out my thumb. It usually takes five minutes to get a ride on Maui but it took almost an hour that day, because the island faeries needed time to enact their witchcraft. Umiko and I commiserated long-distance as the cars zoomed by. Why were we lonely? Why not just impassioned? Everyday? Why did we waste our time like this?
Umiko was in the middle of serious, heartfelt rambling when a truck pulled up and I hung up on her mid-sentence. The driver came out wearing a baseball cap, shorts, and a grin and started raving about how wonderful it was that I was hitch hiking in a wheelchair. He wasn’t sure what he would do with the chair if he stopped, he said, but he figured I had a plan so he’d stopped anyway. (I did have a plan: the back of the truck.) He wasn’t scary at all, so I climbed in.
It’s a straight shot down the mountain to Paia on a road with a view of the whole island. The man raved on. I sure was “inspirational.” And “courageous.” And “adventurous.” And “VERY cute.” Woops. He went back to ‘adventurous.’
Yeah, I really get around. I told him about my defunct hippie school bus plan. Wow. So…did my ‘adventurousness’ apply to boyfriends? Had I ever had…boyfriends?
There was no backtracking from that one, he’d been revealed. But he still wasn’t scary. So I teased. Yup. I had a boyfriend.
And how did you like that?
He was a jerk, I said.
Oh.
But I liked it. Boys are great.
This continued down the road until we got to town. Would you like to go off and have some fun? He asked me, while slowing down to let me out.
Sure, I said, at first thinking he might buy me food. Then—Wait. What kind of fun?
You know…intimate fun.
Awwwwwww. Thank you, I told him, that is so sweet but I don’t think I’m ready for that yet! I hope to progress to having casual sex in five or ten years, but it wouldn’t work for me now. I just started with this sex thing, I wouldn’t be comfortable.
Keep on asking women that though! Love is great! Sometimes they’ll say yes—five to ten years from now I might have said yes.
He grinned shyly at the floor. Aww shucks, he might as well have said. I hope I didn’t freak you out.
Nah. Don’t worry about it.
He sniffed. It would have been nice, though, to let you…play with me.
I know. It’s such a shame.
He got my chair out of the back, helped me out, and shook my hand.
Normally this would never have happened to me. Historically it never had. But everything became different that day, because on February 27, at approximately 1pm, the mischievous Maui hobgoblins turned me into a Hottie. It is not beyond their power. Last weekend they turned my neighbor into a didgeridoo master with over 31 didgeridoos. They’ve gotten me blessed by a Vietnamese nun, found me a Tibetan lama, and obtained me a room by the goats. The room has a vegetable juicer and a grandmother who cooks. The hobgoblins were bound to tackle sex next.
After excitedly calling back Umiko, I started down the sidewalk. I wasn’t sure how to meet someone. Hang around the health food store? Journal in a coffeeshop? Ogle the surfers? But being a Hottie, I no longer had to overwork my brain like this.
Hey there, where are you going? This random guy on the sidewalk asked me.
I’m not going anywhere really. Just looking around.
He introduced himself as Ronnie. Before he could say much, his friend came by. His friend ignored me for a split second, then pulled an honest-to-god double take when he realized—I was a Hottie.
Why helllooo. My name is ____.
_____ was missing a few teeth and had prison tattoos, but seemed otherwise…alright. Would you like to come out to the point and drink these beers with us? He asked, lifting up a six-pack.
Sure. Sure. Why not. _______ told me about the overlook, and the moss and the rocks. He and Ronnie were great guys, he said, I would love hanging out with them.
(go to Part 1, Part 3, Part 4)
Sunday March 02nd 2008, 3:47 am
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