Monday, 21 January 2008

Get a cup of tea for this one

To say that the weekend just been was exhausting would be to gloss over how bone-crushingly tired I ended up yesterday evening, necessitating in a bedtime of 7:30pm, which, with daylight savings still going strong, meant I pulled the curtains to shut out the sun.
As previously mentioned, the weekend was spent in Auckland, and I had quite forgotten how spending money there comes as naturally as breathing. My monthly budget is now completely screwed. But! There is always an upside to spending money, you have heaps of fun doing so.
Friday night saw me fly into Aucks at the speed of ...... 120km/h - the Red Rocket performed beautifully up over the Bombay Hills and delivered me to a beautiful Italian restaurant in St Heliers where my friends and I had a hilarious dinner and much banter was delivered. Sample conversation:
"Dude, when you read the menu, do you just hand it back to the waitress and say 'I'll have it thanks'?"
We headed back to their house and spent a lovely summer's night on the deck swatting mozzies and drinking Sauvignon.
Saturday morning I was enjoying a nice sleep in, when it was GET UP! time at the unholy hour of 8am, as it was birthday present opening time for Sarah. I ran into their room screaming MERRY CHRISTMAS! We all jumped into bed together - 5 of us - and for a moment we all forgot we were nearing 30 and had 2 weddings and 2 kids between us all. Sarah loved the nail polish I got her. I'm a bit obsessed with nail polish at the moment aren't I?
Brunch took us to La Vista in St Heliers, which was super awesome, and Sarah had a birthday brekkie of mince of toast with a fried egg. I was all, hmmm, but when it came out I had plate envy something chronic. Although my french toast with the usual banana bacon maple syrup was so delicious and very very naughty. I highly recommend this cafe if you are ever in St Heliers.
It was a mega hot day so we retired back home to sit on sun loungers with mags, and glasses of bubbly. Cam and I poured Sarah one, and being without strawberries, put a cherry tomato in there. I informed her of this fact about half an hour later.
Cam had organised a surprise lunch for Sarah at a restaurant in Parnell, and here, people, is where the great day came to a crashing great halt around my ears.
We were at a lovely outdoor table munching calamari and sipping beers, and were commenting on how great the service was. We all expressed surprise at this, because this restaurant is not known for its great service. Me being me, outdoes everyone elses gripes with a tale of my own.
"I was here with Mum and Lauren, and we ordered some calamari and wine." (This all said in a voice at approximately 2000 decibels).
"We had a couple of glasses and then Mum had to leave to catch a flight. She paid for the calamari and wine, and left. Lauren and I stayed on and had a couple more wines." Everyone is nodding sagely and going, of course, you and Loz, wine quaffers from way back.
"We decided to head home, and got up to pay for our drinks to the lady owner behind the counter. Imagine our surprise when we see the calamari on the bill. I question this, and say my mother paid for this when she left. The lady disagrees with me, and I am a bit taken aback. I say, well she specifically came back to tell us so, and was dealing with that guy behind the bar. She then says, well he must have pocketed the money because it's not showing on the receipts." Indignant comments are echoing around the table, along the lines of, isn't the customer always right? and, it's not your problem if the staff are dishonest.
"I say to her well I'm not paying for it twice and I'll get my mother to call you if you like to sort it out. She humphs and lets us go. And I haven't been back since till today."
Everyone is nodding and saying good on you, yeah she's nasty etc etc when all of a sudden it happens. A lady at the next table is slowly getting up - leaving half her lunch - and walking quickly into the restaurant. One of our guys goes, oh, that's her, that's the lady. And it was. She was obviously on her day off, enjoying a lunch with friends at her restaurant. And they had all heard everything.
The ironic thing was, I had just been discussing with Sarah that morning that I thought I gossiped too much, and was going to try and stop. Talk about learning the hard way. I felt like absolute shit for a couple of hours and needed a Gloriax to stop stressing out - and am still really pissed at myself. But who knows, she may have needed a wake up call - I certainly wasn't the only one with a bad experience with her - but nobody likes overhearing gossip about themselves.
I perked up when we left the restaurant - 3 interminable hours later - and headed to Lizzie's place for a couple of drinks before the concert. We were able to walk to the concert from there, and got there as Fergie was halfway through her show. Not that we watched it, because we were too busy lining up for beers. Imagine our surprise when we discovered that they had stopped selling booze at 8:30pm (!!!!) and had also run out of water (!!!!!!!!!!). We decided that it was fate that there's no booze, meaning we won't be hungover the next day. So we arming ourselves with disgusting Pepsi we headed back to our seats. Who should we bump into but our future Prime Minister, Mr John Key. He was more than happy to listen to us rave about why we'd vote him in (namely, because we hate Helen Clark) and we watched him about 10 minutes later dancing so badly it was almost cool.
The Police got started, and man they were good. Real musicians if you know what I mean. I especially liked the drummer dude. BUT! And there's always a but. 2 songs into the concert, we're standing on our chairs, bopping away, when I realise that my arm feels a lot lighter. I then realise that my watch is gone. My brand new, Calvin Klein, arm-and-a-leg watch, is no longer on my wrist. I grab Sarah's arm and make I'm-dying, please-help-me faces. She, being Sarah, is very straight up, and says it's either under your seat, at Lizzie's house or never to be seen again.
I am on the verge of losing it entirely, having already had a shitter of an experience, so after wildly looking under our chairs in amongst the jandals and toes and chair legs and bottles, I reach into my bag to get a calming cigarette. What should I find, but my watch.
To say that I had a epiphany would be to understate it. I actually had to sit down. I am not, I repeat NOT, a lucky person. For my watch to have fallen off INTO MY OWN HANDBAG was something I could not comprehend. I babbled to Sarah that I had found God, he must be looking after me, and she's patting me on the back and laughing. I rave that even after I ruin someone's day by gossiping, someone up there still likes me enough so that I don't lose my treasured watch.
After zipping it into a pocket in my bag and tying the bag to my leg I get back into the concert and have a ball.
We headed straight home afterwards, and while everyone else went straight to bed (bloody couples!!!) I sat up on the deck looking at the moon and listening to the crickets, having a frosty cold beer. What a day. Life lessons learned, fun was had, money was spent, music was enjoyed. What more could you want?

1 comment:

Jennifer (Jen on the Edge) said...

Holy crap, what an up and down day. I'm glad everything ultimately ended well.

So, one of the greatest concerts EVER?