My trip to Hawaii - Day One

I'm giving you small doses of my nice little vacation so it's not overwhelming. I'm now going into Sophia Petrillo mode. Picture it, Oahu, December 4, 2005 -
It's overcast but we don't care, we're in Hawaii!! We drive from the airport to our hotel off the Waikiki strip, the Aston Waikiki Prince. There is a waitlist (wtf?) for parking so we end up pursuading the neighboring hotel to let us park even though we're not guests. $17? We're from SF, this doesn't even faze us. We grab our luggage and check in. Few things:
1. The lobby is small and dirty. There is a little Asian man rubbing his bare foot on the grubby couch.
2. The receptionist couldn't hear out of her phone. The other receptionist tells her to shake the phone and if that doesn't work, bang it against the table. No lie.
3. The elevator looks a bit skanky. Noticing a theme here.
4. The cement corridor leading to our room smells like urine.
5. I suspect this is the official Waikiki Prostitutes corporate headquarters.

I didn't take pictures of said hotel but let me show you borrowed ones that I found online after my adventure, of course.
That's the high tech central air you're seeing, folks. NOT. (My ceiling wasn't cracked but it was still crusty.)

Isn't their carpet full of character? And bodily fluids.

My friend feels terrible and apologizes profusely for picking a bad hotel. I tell her it's not her fault. I asked her to find us a package deal and she had shown me the web site before we booked it. No one is to blame but we WILL get the hell outa there.We go back downstairs and I formulated my strategic plan. Of course, there was now only one receptionist and a long line. I decided that the friendly route was the best way to go because it certainly wasn't her fault this place was funky. (Friends, I think you've all seen me get pissy and know I can become, ah-hmm, f*cking mean.) So when it's my turn, I lean over the counter and say quietly with a smile, "We would like to upgrade. The outside of our room smells like urine and there's a bag of garbage outside." She looks alarmed and makes sure no one heard me. Luckily, she appreciates my tact and says she will see what she can do.

My friend and I go to have lunch by the beach while our receptionist works on it. We decide we won't have any alcohol until we are moved. After lunch, an hour has passed and we go back to our rat trap. A few raindrops fall just as we arrive at the front steps of our lobby. Sweet. We decide to go upstairs, get our luggage and make sure we are ready to get the f*ck out as soon as we're upgraded.

It takes us another hour and a half before we are finally cleared for an upgrade to their somewhat better sister hotel, The Aston Coral Reef. By now, it is pouring outside and the gutters are actually overflowing onto the sidewalk. We are so grateful to be out of the roach motel that we charge through the doors into the mini monsoon. We drag our luggage through puddles and go from the hell hotel to our purgatory paradise. We check in and find out we are on the 15th floor. Our room is neat, a tiny bit run down, and the carpet smells faintly of pee. I'm so relieved to be out Hookers Hotel that I don't even raise a stink. Our room looks like what a proper cheap hotel should look like. We even have a cute little view from our balcony.
Finally, it feels like we are on vacation. Whooohoooo! We make our way to the Royale Hawaiian (the pink hotel you see in the above picture,) go to the bar overlooking the beach and order drinks. There are only a few rain drops now and it's still 80+ degrees. Our beautiful outdoor bar has an awning. We sit back, check out the ocean waves and make a toast. Aloha.