Impromptu Derring-do: "So you're a magician?" "You could call me that, but if I reach behind your ear, it will not be a quarter I pull out, BUT YOUR VERY SOUL!"

Sooooo…yesterday was pretty sweet. I wandered down what locals call K-road, which is apparently, like, what passes for the red-light district in Auckland (whatever, Kiwis—you’re practically PG compared to NYC. Or DC) and down another street, and ended up in the West Park. It’s this gorgeous hilly forest where dogs run around playing and hardcore joggers pant up and down the tracks, and it’s green and perfect and like a secret, and I just.

I love it. To pieces. <3

It doesn’t hurt that I made a friend there—a guy whom I shall refer to as Mr. T (though he’s, like, the complete inverse of the real one). He’s a student at Auckland U, a native, and so in-the-know about the city..! We spent about six hours just walking around and talking, and:

He bought me a beer. A delicious, Australian beer. Me and my light-weight self were pretty happy about this development.
We sat in this renovated overpass-building thing and chatted about life. And old buildings. And sea gulls.
We walked around K-road (and he attempted to apologize for what he called the “shady stores” and I laughed in his face. Their level of sketchiness was comparable to, like, JC Penney’s magazines under a 13-year-old’s bed.)
We saw Thai joint called Joy Bong. I do not lie. (And I did not giggle like a 7^th grader, no sir.)
We ate at this awesome Korean restaurant—I had bibimbop!—and mused about the popularity of boybands. Then he paid, AGAIN, and walked away while I was trying to figure out this stupid currency to pay him back. (Note to self: Owe Mr. T lunch.)
We walked down Queens Street and saw the Diwali preparations going up. Festival of Lights! Indian food! Fresh chrysanthemums! Yay!
We wandered around Borders (and giggled at this scraggly old man completely absorbed in a book in the romance section) and drank a cup of tea and chatted some more.
AND RUFUS WAINWRIGHT IS PLAYING AT THE CIVIC HERE ON SUNDAY. I THINK IT’S A MORAL IMPERATIVE I GET TICKETS. (I mean, I’ve only seen him once and I love him and it’s, like, fate that I got here when he was here. Seriously, what are the odds?)
And then some random stranger came up to Mr. T on the street and gave him a free ticket to see Leonard Cohen. Which he then tried to pass off on me, and I was like, hell no, you’ve bought me dinner and a beer and now you’re trying to give me more things? NO.
And then he walked me home. :D