Maybe there’s something in the air, but I now find myself partaking in random acts of shouting.
First was the incident of the cruise-liner in Auckland. I had been reading a book at the water’s edge all morning when I was suddenly jolted by an excessively loud horn. The massive white and chrome sea-casino was leaving port, heading to Australia. There were people on the decks waving their pashminas and feather boas at us, we the humble commoners of the jetty. It was too much for a sensitive leftie-hippy-politico-feminist-eco-warriorette like myself. How dare they flaunt their neo-capitalist filthy lucre in my face? Instead of cheering and wishing ‘Bon Voyage!’ like all the other slaves of hierarchical feudal society, I decide to holler my own message of farewell. “f***ers!”
Besides, it was funny… (Sorry, Mum.)
Then came the episode of the hired campervan.
I was hitching at the side of the road when a convoy of mobile-home/campervans trundled towards me. Vans like these NEVER pick up hitchers so I stood in bemused repose, resting my thumb. They roared past one by one, ‘Kiwi Hire’, ‘Maui Rentals’, ‘NZ Escape’ and then, emblazoned across both the roof and side panels…
‘Affordable Campervans’.
“Cheapskates!” I cry.
Surprisingly enough, they didn’t stop for me.
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