The Adventures of the Overprotected

I don’t think I slept as well in ages as I have slept on my first night in Auckland. Maybe the air or something agrees with me. My bed is super comfy and of course, I have my pillow. I get up at 10.45am. HM1 is at work, HM2 is sleeping, HM3 is making coffee and chatting with Friend. Need morning fag badly but refusing to go outside in my pyjamas. So shy!

Us three go out into the city in HM3’s car. HM3 drops up off a K’ Road (K stands for something that is really long, impossible to pronounce and not easy to remember) and he’s off to work. Friend takes me to a bank where I open up my bank account so that I am not tempted to spend lots of money quickly. Good idea.

Fast forward boring stuff (by the way, Friend is not the chatty sort – ZzzzZzzzz …) we track all the way uphill at a 35 degree gradient for about 500 metres and walk about another three kilometres before we get to the damn museum and all because he missed the bus stop. I’m trying very hard not to kill someone I barely know. He probably has a mom that loves him very much, but I wanted to box him in his ears and kick him down the hill. But I’m too tired to smoke. He lives. For now.

The museum was great! There was a fair bit on Maori culture which was super cool. I spent a lot of time there barely talking to Friend, not because I hate him, but because I was actually intrigued by the exhibits.

When we got up to section on Wars, I met John who is some grandfather dude who works there. He tells me that the Mitsubishi Zero plane (I think it’s the planes Kamikazes use) that I was looking at is probably one of five that exists in the world. I pretend to be interested only because he’s nice to me and he told me I was pretty. Yeah baby!

It’s 5 o’clock and I’m dead tired. My legs feel like jello and I am in desperate need of a nicotine fix! I realise it’s been 4 hours since my last fag … WTF?!

Friend walks me to the bus stop because he’s meeting some guy in the city at half six and has some time to kill. So we walk to the bus stop and we can’t seem to find the next buses that HM3 told us to take. Fish! A bus pulls up and Friend tells me to go ask the driver if that’ll take me to where I wanna go. Driver tells me yes so I get on.

About half an hour later and after many people got off the bus, Driver shouts something to the back. I turn around and realise I’m the only one on the bus. She talkin’ to me?! With the bus engine noise and the rain, I can barely make out what she wants. I move closer and she asks me where I want to go. She tells me that it’s late and raining and since I’m the last one on the bus, she’ll drop me outside of my house. I give her my address and she tells me I missed my stop about 7 stops ago. WHAT?!

We are in Swanson. I’m thinking where the hell is Swanson? Apparently she has passed her last stop and she’s now headed for the Swanson bus depot where her shift ends! I am fucked. She was probably thinking ‘Stupid cheenar doesn’t know where Swanson is, can’t get her bus stop right!’ but before I could tell her to drop me off wherever and I’d get a cab, she offers to take me back to my house in her car.

Okay, pause. Where got so nice one? I tell her that it’s okay and I will call for a taxi from the depot. She tells me cabs are expensive, I’m pretty far from home and that even though it’s not on the way for her, she’ll take me back because it’s raining. Seriously, who’s going to believe that I missed my bus stop and the bus driver took me back to my house in her car?

So she drops me off and tells me that she’ll be driving the same bus all this week and that if I get stuck in the city, I should get on her bus and she’ll know when to stop for me. Are you serious?! I tell her that she’s an angel. She laughs and I get out of the car.

I get home for a bit and HM1 comes back. He didn’t join Friend in the city for drinks with their mutual friend because he’s tired. We’re happily watching television when he asks if I know how to cut hair. Cut hair? Yes, I have cut hair all of three times in my life. I cut my own hair once and had to get it cut shorter because it was a complete disaster. I cut Bra’s hair once and I think he secretly still hates me for it. And oh, of course, I used a clipper on Dumb Ass Brother 1’s hair before and shaved his head. All by accident I promise.

I recount these stories to HM1 but he doesn’t even bat an eyelid. He thinks I’ll be okay cutting his hair and he wants me to unless I didn’t want to. In the spirit of being housemates for the next six months, I said okay on condition that he wouldn’t kick me out of the house if I did a crap ass job. He said okay.

Apparently I did a sweet job and he recommended my services to a friend who rang after I exhibited my coiffure skills on his head. I watch Dick and Jane for a bit. That show cracks me up all the time. I am pleased to feel comfortable and content in this house, in this country. HM3 comes back a little later. He acknowledges HM1 shorter hair and tells me I’m pretty good. I am starting to fall in love with myself! Everybody loves me.

So the three of us are talking bullshit and stuff, HM3 decides that we should smoke. He shows to me something that I would keep in a Tiffany box. He asks for a cigarette and obviously the three of us party all night long. I love Auckland, I love this house and I think I’ll love my housemates as well. This is going brilliant.