We never left house without our rental PT Cruiser, which thrilled us to bits at first. Then it was quickly named the Gay Cruiser by the locals, who we met at infamous waterhole Tahiti Nui.
By the by, did you know that Jackie Kennedy the ultimate icon herself went to Tahiti Nui back in the day? We thought that was way cool, so we also went. Many many times. The bands were a’shaking, the rum and cokes abundant, and the action sweaty, sweet and sour.
In any case, the Gay Cruiser was a Mexican dog. The lights kept flashing on the dashboard, it kept cutting out, and a couple of times it stalled in the middle of very narrow mountain roads. Usually at the moments when a jacked-up Chevy rode our tail, and barely managed to brake before it would have plunged us off a very steep cliff. So, after coming close to death on too many an occasion, we took it back to Thrifty. They gave us a new one – in burgundy…
Well, in its defense, Gay Cruiser number 2 got on with the business of working properly. And if you pressed the pedal hard, it made a lot of noise, which is better than quiet. It didn’t go, though.
Obviously, we didn’t ride in style in comparison with the locals. Look at that evil ol’ Blazer in the back… creepiest thing I ever saw. Confusingly, sort of cool at the same time.
Of coz, that’s just something the cat dragged in. You ain’t nuttin’ on Kauai, unless you have a flippin’ big blacked-out pimped-out latest Silverado, jacked-up beyond belief, running treads the size that would shame a Massey-Ferguson, couple of surfboards in da back, V8 rumbling impossibly loud. Holy haole, get the hell out of their way. You thought surfers were nice laid-back dudes, right? Pah. Local surfers are angry animals, always looking to bite the hands that feeds.