Hello, Auckland. You seem nice, but you can take your bloody hand off my leg. Let’s talk instead – I mean, really talk, not just you nod and grunt over top of your boner (is he finished yet? should I go get my pants?). A word about you.
See, I’ve been giving this some thought, and this is what I came up with. It isn’t me. It’s you. Don’t take this the wrong way – I mean, I don’t want you to think that I’m claiming some sort of inherent perfection, just because I’m taller, smarter, more handsome and have better social skills. I’m just trying to clear the air.
And, I also don’t want you to think that just because I’m another economic migrant from the 0-4 who’s had it up to here (see where I’m gesturing?) with Wellington and it’s pomposity, that this is another compare and contrast where we realise that your city council hasn’t plunged fifty percent of its revenues into statues and paving stones, and that Peter Jackson bypassed your ass, and you suck. No, not at all. Au contraire! Not at all, really.
I have five questions. Riddle me these, and then we can all go home. Slowly.
one: how come, having spent ten bajillion dollars on a central city makeover, it still only looks like your designers had a spare eighty bucks and spent half an hour in Bunnings?
two: how come you hate pedestrians so much? Can’t cross the road without waiting for a long while, in a blitzkreig of rain, with nothing to cower under. If lucky, will skidd A-over-kite on one of those yellow things by the cross lights.
three: where are all your street signs?
four: what’s so nice about Parnell? It looks to me like Parnell is going out of its way not to have a personality.
five: a lot of animal statues. Are you primitive heathen spellcaster fetishists? That’s only incidentally sexy.
Look, don’t feel free to answer all at once. Because, I want you to know that there are things I love about Auckland. One, it doesn’t seem to give a fuck about the rest of the country, it just does its own thing. Two, people put road cones on horse statues, and, for that matter, road cones where ever they fucking please – I don’t know what makes all that so nice, but I don’t think it matters. Three, the food is great, and four…
Four is my favourite. Four is, inside an ugly duckling of a town, inside the Auckland that is “competing with Sydney and Brisbane and New York” according to the mayor, but isn’t actually in their league (“well, the shortlist is New York or Auckland…hmmm…”) is a beautiful town just waiting for a golden age. hey, Auckland, you’re pretty cute at the right angles. Sign me up.
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