Shake me up some Google-Fu and B-52s.

Hey, you know what I’d really like to do?
Say wha’?
I feel like makin’ a bar.
Ooh wah what kind of bar do you want?
Umm, how about … pineapple upside-down bar?
Maybe a swanky adult only nudie bar.
Wah, sounds good. Nothin’ like a adult beverage bar.
Ooh, how about an Faye’s Tiki Lounge bar?
Umm, some cinnamon?
Yea, sure.
Yea, uh huh. I swear.
You got a room the right size?
A room?
It says in Sven’s book it takes a long time for it to shake.
I read that. Now, beware.
Let’s get this thing in the google-fu.

Blame it on the B-52s. Jason and Angela loved their music. They loved the group’s kitsch. Jason even stole a B-52 cassette from the dollar bin when he was a teenager. They dressed up as Fred and Kate for Halloween a few years later. Angie would rock a one-piece onesie and tease up her hair into a beehive hairdo. It wasn’t long before they were headin’ down the tiki highway, lookin’ for a love getaway. First, it was vintage trailers and hot rods. Next, it was a trip to Viva Las Vegas to do some rockin’ on the roulette wheel. Then there were a few strong concoctions at Frankie’s Tiki Room. Take a little, take a little nip, take a little sip, take a little more. Next thing you know, and Jason and Angela are getting gobsmacked by MeduSirena, Sven, and Swanky at the Mai Kai’s sixtieth anniversary party.

Tiki was just the right mix of kitsch, craziness, cocktails, mid-century, trism, and community that Jason and Angela loved. They had to bring it home. When they decided to buy a new house, Angie did some google-fu and scoured the area for dwellings with a built in bar. It paid off. Not only did they score; they hit the jackpot. Jason and Angie found a 1950s mid-century house in the suburbs of Detroit with an amazing custom-built basement home bar, complete with industrial appliances, sinks, orginal wood paneling, terazzo-like tile floors, and a built in stereo sound system that had been lovingly maintained over the many years. In honor of their epiphany at Frankie’s Tiki Room, their new oasis was named Faye’s Tiki Lounge.

Faye’s Tiki Lounge is that bar your parents wouldn’t let you visit. You know – that bar that’s a little seedy, perhaps a little smoky. It’s that bar kids wanted to sneak down and look around when the adults went to sleep. Who knows what they’d find? Those nudie glasses with disappearing clothes when empty? Burlesque dancer pin-up posters? An extensive array of exotic liquors and concoctions? A zombie bank that feeds coins into an eye? A coconut pirate with a shell earing? Drinks from belly dancer glasses? A wahini bra hanging from the rafters? It’s all here. Even as an adult, there’s a sense of good-natured naughtiness. In other words, it’s a mid-century tiki heaven.

These days you’ll likely know this amazing couple as Shortround (Jason) and Safari Faye (Angela). They are beloved by the tiki community with just the right amount of jackassery and tomfoolery as members of the Fraternal Order of Moai. They haven’t stopped dressing up in costumes either. They were naïve and anxious pirates at their first Ohana several years back. Last weekend, Shortround was a dead ringer for Colonel Sanders, talking with a Foghorn Leghorn accent at the Kon-Tiki Fried Chicken Ohana room crawl while Safari Faye was sampling the Port Light bourbon-based tiki drink.

We know a place where we are free.
We throw our suits into the sea.

Bop bop bop boodha bah da da
Bop bop bah da bah da

Please take my hand,
You are a woman.
I am a man.

Faye’s Tiki Lounge is so remote, everything is revealed.
It’s so mysterious.
Here I must stay forever.

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