Home Tiki Lounge Hi-Fi Book Shelf Femme Fatales Martini Hide-Away Essays Forum/Groups Radio Store Links

You can't crash this closed corporation of gigolos, but for the boys on the inside it's a glorious life being one of the famed--

"Rogues of Waikiki"

by Hoyt McAfee



Vol. 3 No. 1 January, 1958

    WHOEVER COINED the phrase, "You Never Had It So Good," was unconsciously describing the life of the world's most larksome and popular Rogues. I refer to the gigolos without peer--those sun-bronzed lads of Waikiki Beach. Their clients and "kuu-ipos" (honeys) affectionately call them the "best," "most," and "last word" in matters of roguery.
    They come as close to getting the breaks as any males on our globe. They respond to no factory whistle, punch no time clocks; and they never have to rack their brain for a solution to problems, turn their hand to physical labor, or work up a sweat. That is, except under the pleasantest circumstances imaginable.
    They have, in short, the kind of dream job any vitamin-filled male would drool over. Why so? Because they spend about all their time with women. All kinds of thrill-seeking and love-starved dames beat a path to their beach domain of Waikiki: young mainland American girls, frustrated socialites, widows with swag, and dissatisfied wives playing hooky from their husbands.
    Small numbers of women are genuinely interested in mastering the art of coral diving, maneuvering an outrigger canoe, and riding surf boards. Most, however, simply use that as a stepping stone to more intimate pleasures. All "in-the-mood" girls know that the Waikiki males are available, ready, and willing--for a fee!
    They're more independent and financially successful than the professional gigolos of Reno and the French Riviera. Those lover boys have to shell out part of their earnings to the lawyers who hire them or to guilds. Not so the Romeos of Waikiki. They're free to pocket all the fees they earn and store away the numerous gifts their delighted female patrons pass on to them.
    At this point I can sense a question. How do you crash that setup? Unhappily, men, you can't! You, as an outsider, stand no chance of being accepted into that clannish group.
    First of all, they've been a tightly-knit, jealous, and going concern for a long stretch of years. The male must be in his late teens and early twenties, well built physically, merry and light-hearted of disposition, and possessed of an amiable personality.
    He must, additionally, be fond of women. But on the other hand he must control his loving nature and operate as a businessman. He cannot show favors or fall in love.
    Successful old-timers of the Waikiki brigade retire in time and make room for younger talent. There is no hard-and-fast organization as such but those on the inside keep a firm hand on the steering-wheel. They never take on a new apprentice unless they have room for him. He pays no entrance fee. But once inducted into the select circle he must conform to the accepted pattern of conduct.
    It's obvious, therefore, that close buddies of the established gigolos are the only ones who ever make the grade. Not even a slick lover from Hollywood has ever succeeded in crashing that iron curtain.
    Most important of all, from the women's point of view, the Waikiki professionals never brag about their conquests. A lonely woman can patronize an Hawaiian beach boy and return home free of scandal or a besmirched reputation. She can, in brief, have her fling and get away with it.

    On or AROUND WAIKIKI BEACH you, I, or the next male vacationist will have to try to make speed with enticing Wahines--matched, as we'll certainly be, against the most skilled and potent competition in the world.
    They're reputed to be the world's best lovers. Many women have assured me of that. During my years in Honolulu I'd hear secretaries, government girls, vacationing babes and unhappy women speak with enthusiasm of how they were saving for a long week-end.
    Sometimes I'd catch them in mellow, confiding, and convivial moods. I'd hear them extol the tenderness, prowess, gallantry, and ardor of the professional beach boys. They'd convince the girls that they actually were in love with them. Their overtures would be romantic considerate; and their technique would be geared to each woman client's response.
    Perhaps the most potent secret of their success is the toe and foot massage. That "treatment" sends the girls out into a world of rapture. Standing on one foot, the Hawaiian lover uses the other to press into, manipulate, and massage all the sensitive spots on a woman's back.
    Hawaiian lover boys are adept in giving these massages. Their feminine clients sigh, purr, and slip off into a mood where they feel like loving the whole world!
    The high-powered Romeos have several additional weapons in reserve. They're "gallantly bold," as one overjoyed Denver redhead explained it to me. They're always willing to match a woman client's mood.
    They play steel guitars and ukuleles and sing haunting old love songs of Hawaii Nei, accompanied by the crash of seas and that melting, low-in-the-sky Hawaiian moon.
    I've known six or seven of these Rogues well and the only time I ever caught one in a sad frame of mind was when he was away from women!
    Most of the Waikiki professionals make a base hit within a ridiculously short time. A prospect presents herself and asks for' some of that famous beach service. One swift, exhilarating ride on the surf board suffices for her. She lets her companion know that she'd welcome his attentions. She further confides that she will gladly pay for the service. Sweet music, that, to the gigolo's ears.
    As a matter of practice he usually escorts her to his cottage hideout. There he administers the toe-and-foot massage and whatever else is agreed to. Then he collects his financial fee and returns to Waikiki to make himself available again.
    One of these fellows--I always called him the "Hoomalimali (tease them along) Kid"--one day to reminiscing about his happiest dates. His experiences, I learned, were fairly typical of his profession.
    There was a 34-year-old woman named Gladys who brought him a special joy. She had been married to a much older man for a spell but things didn't work out. He did, however, settle a substantial amount of money upon her via divorce action. Then Gladys set out to live it up.
    She had heard from another unconventional girlfriend about the services of the Waikiki Romeos. Gladys went to find out for herself. My friend became her first escort. After an afternoon and night of fun she hired him for two more days. He was delighted with the arrangement and he was being well paid.
    When Gladys packed for a cruise to Australia and New Zealand three days later she offered to take the "Hoomalimali Kid" along. He was tempted to go but his chums--pouring on the scorn--talked him out of it. They convinced him that by concentrating on one woman he'd be displaying a grievous "weakness"--especially when he could stay in Waikiki and escort many women.
    The Kid's second most delightful dalliance was with a widow named Madge. Somewhere along the line she had latched on to a comfortable wad of dough. Madge was adventurous. After my beach boy friend had met her he took her for a surfboard ride and entertained her.
    She was well satisfied and stuck around for two days and nights. Only when the Hoomalimali Kid presented her his bill she commented wryly: "What a hell of a note--having to pay a man!"
    Then there was Helen; my friend sighed over the very mention of her name. Helen, a bit woozy from cocktail drinking, had sought out a Waikiki boy on a dare.
    She drew the Hoomalimali Kid and off to his beach side cottage they went. My beach boy friend found her the most exciting woman of his professional career.
    After a 24 hour tryst Helen left the Kid's cottage with a smile on her face. He regretted to see her go because she had given him so much happiness. In fact he enjoyed himself so much that he forgot to charge her! It was unprofessional behavior that doesn't happen often!

More Essays>>>

Home | Tiki Lounge | Hi-Fi | Book Shelf | Femme Fatales | Martini Hide-Away | Essays | Forum/Groups | Radio | Store | Links | E-mail 
Copyright 2006, Swinging Bachelor Productions.