Ka Leo O Hawaii

Issue date: 1/16/08 Section: Commentary

Media Credit: Chelsea Skidmore It's nice to see the mainland, but only from a distance.

Note from the Editorial Board:

The edited version of this column, as appeared in Wednesday's print edition, may have led readers to make unfounded assumptions about author Chelsea Skidmore's character and her views on mainland residents. We would like to make clear that the writer is not, and never has been, interested in using illegal substances. The editors sincerely apologize for any disturbing implications and would like to thank Chelsea Skidmore for her submission. This is the original, unedited version of her column.

I just arrived the previous evening from a very hungover trip in Miami for New Years when my friend Alison called and asked, "Want to come to Baltimore for five days?"

I agreed to the four hour drive, and wasn't too surprised when she let me know about two hours into the trip that she tricked me into coming to help her move out of her house into a new one.

That night we ate at an Ethiopian restaurant, which consisted of a huge plate covered in weird elephant/seal skin textured bread along with colored mashed up lentils and meat.

After washing that down with a few too many whiskey sours and Peptimol Bismol, I threw up. Unfortunately the only thing I was able to use to brush my teeth with was some disgusting, equally nauseating licorice all natural hippy flavored toothpaste, but it was good enough to allow me to venture to the local tavern where I partied till 8am drinking $2 Natural Bohemian Beers.

The next day I felt like dying but Alison made me help her move all day, and then rewarded me with four chicken nuggets from McDonalds for my hard work.

For dinner we had awful Mexican food at a restaurant that claimed to be famous for their refried beans, although I didn't taste anything too spectacular.

Following the Mexican food, we watched the film Basquiat, which made me want to be a painter (but not a heroin addict).

Then some kid showed up to my friends house and woke me up when I was sleeping with pieces of fried chicken bigger than my head and insisted I eat it while he photographed me.

The next day was moving day again, and this time I met Alison's roommate who was deaf. Even though she is extremely rude, it didn't give Alison the right to make fun of her to her face while she was in the room just because she couldn't hear her.

That disturbed me so I went downstairs and discovered across the street was a store called "Chained Desires." I quickly ran into the store along with a very overweight drug dealing gangster off the street named Scooter (who told me he always wanted to go inside but didn't want to alone) and was surrounded by S&M fantasy world playground.

Scooter let me blindfold him and spank him with several whips and paddles, and didn't hesitate to let out more than a few "mmmm's" after each smack of delight.

Then he told me he had a wife but needed a friend like me on the side to have fun with. I said I didn't have a cell phone. He told me he'd buy me a maid's costume I liked but when he saw it was $75 he told me the check was in the mail and would arrive next week.

I got mad and gave him another scratch with a furry paw that had sharp nails for being a naughty cheap cheating liar.

That evening, I took a visit to the Kitty Cat club where I was appointed the bar mascot, and every time a customer came in I was supposed to whip them with a paddle.

I'm not sure why they had a paddle, but it was obvious that I became Baltimore's S&M master for a few days, which left local bar goers begging for more discipline everywhere I went.

When we went to return the UHAUL truck, the woman who worked behind the counter was on the phone and eating a fish sandwich from McDonalds that had sauce dripping down her face as she was whispering sexually explicit things on the phone to her boyfriend.

Then she winked at me and told me to keep things exciting. Then I hopped behind the counter and whipped her with a paddle and winked at her. No… I didn't.

By the end of the trip I realized I wasn't the strongest kid on the playground (in terms of moving things) and that pretty much all of the MICA art students are chain smoking-beer swigging-jukebox playing-coke blowing- fashion conscious art students.

On the last night my friend got in a fight with her boyfriend and pretended she got hit by a car and limped all day so he wasn't mad at her.

A bum kept head butting me in a bar and asking "are you a pu$$y" and then fell asleep on the floor twice before being kicked out.

An old man played blues on his guitar and sang for me for two hours. We partied again till 8am in my friend's art studio making portraits.

Then when we got back to my friends apartment I had to listen to her and her boyfriend having sex in the bathroom at like 9 in the morning, while I received weird text messages from some art student asking if his penis was made of pennies would I put it in my mouth if I was having a stroke.

I don't think I'll go back to Baltimore for awhile, unless I'm going to try to get raped, robbed or drugged up. Peace out east coast I'm going back to Hawaii!

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