Manele Bay Resort

These are tough times, but the next time you feel like whining about your job, I want you to think of Saul Kahiihikolo. Saul’s job at the Manele Bay Resort is to wrap a floral sarong around his otherwise naked body and, just as the sun is setting over Hulopoe Bay, stand out by the resort pool like some sort of ancient Hawaiian warrior who has mysteriously been transported here through some weird cosmic time warp, and run around lighting tiki torches while blowing on a triton shell that is a family heirloom.

photo by Macduff Everton

It’s not so much the tiki torches and blowing the conch that is unnerving to Saul as it is the half-looped women, drinking pina coladas at the outside bar, who always rush over to have their pictures taken with him while goosing his ass from behind. That would account for the sometimes flat notes that come out of the conch. 

But Saul is a professional. He offers up little more than an uncomfortable smile when they whisper “What’s underneath the sarong?” while snuggling up against his bare chest.

The minute one of the gals snaps the group photo, Saul is off, jogging to another corner of the pool, carrying his flame high above his head like an Olympic torch runner, anxious, no doubt, to light that last tiki torch and get the hell on out of here.