Post #618831 by lentilstew on Tue, Dec 27, 2011 2:11 PM

Aloha, friendly Tiki-O people. This was my first year attending Tiki Oasis, and I had a blast. The whole weekend was steeped in sweet libations and sweeter company. Most of the people in my group were new to the event, but we had a few wise pros with us. Even if we hadn't, though, everyone was so kind and welcoming that we would've had a good time anyway.

I loved having a balcony above the main stage. A couple of us standing a few stories up, mugs in hand, listening to the first few songs in an hours-long Los Straitjackets set. Or waking up in the afternoon and taking in a fashion show without even having to put on shoes. Even just setting up balcony decorations and observing other revelers in their natural environments was great.

The room parties were amazing. With swinging bands, magnanimous hosts, bartenders with generous pouring hands, and droves of friendly tiki people, I didn't mind standing shoulder-to-shoulder. I ended up in some interesting conversations just from being festively crowded.

I don't think I had a single drink that wasn't delicious. I was surprised to see that drinks were poured for little more than tips. I pitched money into the jar every time I grabbed a cup or got my mug filled, but it always seemed like the sharing was the important part.

One of my favorite moments was wandering into Dr. Sketchy's with a couple beers in hand, setting one down next to my friend, and doing life drawings with Marina the Fire-Eating Mermaid as the model. Crazy!

The only downside were the party crashers mentioned earlier in this thread. Our only encounter with them was the infamous elevator ride that ended with them in handcuffs and an innocent bystander in the ER. The story's probably been told before from nearly every conceivable angle, but here's my abbreviated version of it, anyway:

A friend and I were headed back up to the room as things were winding down. We shared an elevator with a very nice woman who would show surprising restraint in the next couple minutes. A few floors up, four drunken louts piled into the elevator, barely standing under their own power and belligerently calling us immature and ugly names. The main lout spent most of the ride a few inches from my face trying to start some form of trouble. We eventually made it to our floor without anyone throwing a punch.

As we stepped off, the underaged drunks made a row of one finger gestures at us. I was relieved to be out of there, so I finally made a hand gesture of my own. It was in response to this that the main lout reached out and slapped my mug (a Tiki Caliente II mug borrowed from a friend) down to the ground, where it shattered and sliced into a girl's leg. I was shocked at how casually he'd destroyed one of my friend's treasures--something I'd been honored to borrow. They seemed pretty pleased by this and started (no joke) barking like seals. I pointed at the main lout and told him he would pay for the mug. He stepped back into the elevator with a "whatcha gonna do about it?" posture while his friends crowded forward, ready to confront me.

Things had changed, though. It dawned on them that they didn't have any friends outside of the elevator. Someone was shouting something about how they'd hurt her friend. The woman from the elevator was pointing at blood on the ground and saying "look what you did." The crowd of people was growing and every single person in that crowd was upset with the louts. It was clear that the drunks in the elevator wanted to go down, but hands and feet were holding the doors open. The louts panicked. They tried to run, but a wall of people in Hawaiian shirts was holding them back. In their confused and drunken state, they were actually pretty easy to corral. You just pushed and they couldn't get away. Someone reached in and hit the elevator alarm.

At this point, the youngest, drunkest, dumbest one of the four saw that his friends weren't doing so well. He saw me in the middle of the tussle and reached back in a slow, obvious punch. I reached out my hand and batted his fist down. He did this twice more, eventually connecting with my nose, knocking my glasses off. I quickly retrieved my frames, then put my weight back into the human barrier, but it was too late. They had enough of an opening to scatter. People gave chase, eventually catching all four of the drunk and scared idiots, who each tried to run, wrestle, and lie their way out of the consequences of their actions.

Some responsible fellow was tossing mug shards into the trash. A surprising pool of blood had formed. Groups of shocked and bewildered tiki-folk were gathered around, asking each other questions and giving varying accounts. We stuck around and talked to security. I called my girlfriend to allay her fears. My friend from the elevator stood by my side and kept me company while SDPD showed up. The officer explained to me that there wasn't much point in pressing charges against a drunk nose-punching high schooler, that there were no charges I could press against the other three. It was frustrating, but I thanked him and walked back to the room. I caught a satisfying glimpse of three drunk, angry, and possibly crying louts handcuffed on the floor next to the ice machine. Another lout in the hall claiming that he'd had nothing to do with the altercation while unbelieving officers stood over him and made sure he couldn't go anywhere.

And, so, uh... that was my Tiki Oasis. In spite of that last night's commotion, I'll definitely be back next year. Hopefully I get to hold onto my mug this time.