After an impromptu late-night-picnic-and-beer session in the Botanical Gardens with my flatmates + friends, I headed off to the Interislander ferry terminal to meet one TmsT at 10:30, texting him all the way, and wondering why I wasn’t getting any text back. 11:30pm rolls around and the Interislander still hasn’t arrived, and wasn’t due to arrive till 12:30am… something is wrong.
Turns out I was wrong. They hadn’t caught the Interislander, but had caught one of the other, faster ferrys and had been in town for over an hour now. And I didn’t know this because Andrew’s cellphone was flat and he hadn’t been getting my messages.
One taxi ride later, a dash to get my wallet from inside, a dash to the ATM to get some cash for the fare and a dash back to the taxi to pay the bill, I proceeded to idle up Cuba St and finally we meet!
Andrew’s stuff was in his friend’s car who was stuck somewhere deep in the one-way system that is the Cuba Quarter. Told to go meet him at a particular corner, Andrew’s friend was a no-show. Call Andrew’s now charging phone, and get dispatched to some unknown cul-de-sac in Dixon St. A quick jog and I am able to guide the driver to Lower Cuba St.
After unloading some of TmsT’s gears, and me getting drive-by-egged in the process (I actually came out of it unscathed – I took the egg on the shoulder, it ricocheted off me and hit the inside of the open boot door where it released its runny yellow payload), we ride the lift to the roof and chill out there for half an hour, admiring the city scape. Andrew meets his biggest fan in Wellington.
We retire to the apartment, set up Andrew’s computer and get down to animutating. At some point we get the munchies and make a quick raid to the corner BK, and get back into it. About 4:20 we decide it’s Z-time. Glutnix set up TmsT the spare mattress, and we crash about 4:45am, not before setting the alarm clock for 7am, only a little over 2 hours away.
A Klaxon sounds. Rising from our slumbers quicker than a zombie on guarana pills, we pack up Andrew’s computer. We pose for a photo, and when we get the word that Andrew’s ride to Auckland is en route, move his stuff all back downstairs again. He hands me a copy of his graphic novel “The Fisherman” and we bid each other adiau.
That’s when I crawl back into bed and sleep till past noon. We had a grand ol’ time Best wishes for art school in Auckland, Androo