Misadventures in Wellington

A few days following the ending of my first college year, me, my brother and my next door neighbour, who insisted on being called Oinish Noinin, decided on a two day trip up to the nations capital. The night before I packed my bag, a pair of jeans and shorts, plus a shirt and was ready to go. Instead of travelling by the dreaded train, we caught the bus down instead. From where we were it was good three hour journey by bus. On Monday morning we arrived at the bus station, each of us with a few hundred dollars. It was mid-November and nearly summer, and the day was humid so I wore shorts.


The trip down was uneventful. We sat at the back, to avoid the rest of the passengers. I could never tolerate someone behind me eating, breathing or talking. For the entire ride we warded off sickness, the bumpy ride almost unbearable. When we arrived in good old Wellington, it was freezing as always. In shorts we hurried to the backpacker lodge we stayed at on such visits. When we got there, I paid for the twin room while the other two disappered upstairs. The rates were a joke. One hundred and eighty dollars for two nights. Just for some room with two beds.


This may have been the nations capital, but it didn't mean there was anything to do except steal records and buy some CD's. When that was done for the day we went to a nearby KFC and ate. On the way back to our room I noticed a group of Polynesian youths gathered in the city square. One of them noticed us. "Hey look at these weak white boys!" he screamed to his friends. They came over and confronted us. They couldn't have been any more than fourteen years of age and were puny. I looked around and saw Oinish running off, leaving my brother and I. As we stood there the screamer saw my nice basketball boots. "Those shoes look nice" he suggested. "Go buy some then coon" I told him. Even his friends laughed at that. "Shut up dick, who do you think you are Jesus?" he asked, referring to my gold chain. Ignoring him I pulled out a spare piece of KFC I had leftover in my sack. "Hey you like greasy KFC right dude? I asked. "What you fuckin' mean geek?" he wondered. "Here have some" I insisted, grabbing his face and rubbing it into the greasy, slimy chicken. "Ahh stop, you fucker!" he mumbled in between facefuls of chicken. I tossed him aside, leaving him a laughing stock in front of his homies. "What a reject bro!" I heard one of them say to him as we left.



We bought some beer and went back to our room. I didn't bother asking Oinish why he ran. It was the umpteenth time that had happened. We sat down and watched 'Holmes', the nations leading current affairs interviewer. Tonight was the exclusive world premiere of the lost Beatles track 'Free As A Bird'. It was shocking. Lennon's vocals sounded as if they were recorded in a public restroom, while George Michael gave him a handjob. We turned it off. Bored we ordered a pizza. It took forever to be delivered. Once it arrived we sat down to our feast. Only the pizza had pineapple, always an unnatural ingredient for such a food. I threw my piece at the wall. Then my brother and Oinish did, until the wall was covered in pizza. On closer inspection the pizza had caused the plaster on the wall to melt or evaporate. It was a mess. That evening the main feature was the first episode of '99-1', Lesley Grantham of 'Eastenders' fame's new series. Once that ended and TV closed down for the night we sat and watched people walking on the street below.



I turned the light off so they couldn't see us.



Some man walked hurriedly past. My brother, well hidden, yelled 'got the time bro?' in suitable Maori fashion. He turned around as if in shock and ran, fearing an attack. Later on someone else stopped and tried prying a car door open. I threw a piece of pizza at him. "I saw you up there you little bastard!" he screamed at me. He tried to enter the motel premises, but the doors were locked for the night. "I'm waiting for you boy!" he challeneged. After a few minutes he left, a police car was doing the rounds. After a few hours we went to sleep. I dozed off to the sounds of Kiss' 'Naked City.'


The next morning we went to the Wellngton museum. It was free. On the way out there was a donation jar. "If you would.." suggested the attendant holding the jar. Then as he was diverted by a co-worker I grabbed a handful of money from the jar. I stuffed it in my pocket at the speed of light, and as he turned back slipped in a dollar. "Thanks guys!" he offered happily. Bored we caught a film. it was a movie called Higher Learning, where some skinheads went on a shooting rampage at an American college, murdering some black youths. As the theater filled we managed to cling onto to the entire row we had taken for ourselves. Then a white couple tried to sit near us and we crowded them out. The attendant urged us to make room. Reluctantly we did. "Assholes' the lady said to my brother. "Why don't you fuck off bitch" he suggested in turn. Her boyfriend pretended not to hear. As the film progressed, the mainly Maori and Polynesian crowd became outraged at the injustices suffered by the African-American students. As the films climatic tower shooting occurred one Samoan youth took it upon himself to punch a white man in front of him from behind, in the face. "You white scum!" he said to the wounded victim. The victim's wife stood up and shoved him and it seemed the theater was going to break out. I watched with amusement. The stupid moviegoers had somehow turned themselves into the films victims, because they were new Zeland's own version of the poor African Americans. They had no idea. At the films end a battalion of police were on hand and tore into the youth who assaulted the patron. "No justice in New Zealand! Remember me when I'm dead!" he pleaded to onlookers.



We retreated back to our room. Bored I took a walk over to Vivian Street, Wellington's red light district. I paid fifteen dollars for a peepshow, where a nude dancer entertained you for ten minutes. As I sat down to watch some guy came out with a hard on. Somehow i had chosen a gay peepshow. Annoyed I went to leave. "Hey where you going mate?" questioned the dancer. "Not my scene pal" I replied. "Hey don't leave, how about a blowjob? You look pretty good. No charge." I thought about it. "Okay." He got on his knees and went to start. Before he could I kneed him in the face, bloodying his nose. In a crumpled heap, ass sticking out all he whimpered was 'bastard...bastard..". Maybe he was used to it.


The next day we left, bored and penniless. I scattered the unused beer cans around the room and tried to wipe the pizza off the wall. I gave up and we left. The only business we had left was to buy the new Anthrax album 'Stomp 442'. We listened on the bus ride back. 'Yeah..it's good...yeah.." my brother muttered unconvicingly. Once back we walked home. That evening Oinish came over to our place. All three of us sat in the room. There was no radio or T.V. on. It got darker. Soon the room was pitched in total darkness. We sat there in silence. No one got up to turn the light on.