Jump for my love

The one thing I like about the weeks when I start work at 7am is being able to experience the sun rise on the way in. It’s very pretty.

This morning on the way in, I’d taken my camera with me and stopped off at the Symonds Street overbridge to take some long-exposure photos of motorway traffic.

I found a good vantage point between two large signs. It gave me a nice view of one of the sections of road and gave a nice inky blue sky towards Newmarket.

I mucked around with the settings and took a few photos until I was satisfied with what I’d taken. I turned to leave when I realised there was a man standing by me. He looked like he wanted to say something, so I took a headphone out to hear.

“I was just seeing if you were all right,” he said. I realised that because there were the big motorway signs on either side of me, he would have been unable to see my camera. All he would have seen was a person sort of leaning towards the motorway at a time when most people are still in bed.

Having just taken some choice photos that captured and beauty and splendour of Auckland, I was in an anything but suicidal mood. I could see that he was just trying to be a really really good Samaritan, but I started laughing at the silliness of the situation.

I told him what I’d been doing, thanked him for his concern and continued on to work.

Then I realised that while I’d been taking photos and talking to the man, a Leonard Cohen song had been playing on my iPod.

Two corners of Wellesley and Hobson

Just before seven o’clock this morning I was waiting at the pedestrian crossing outside Sky City Theatre when this fellow sauntered up to me and said- Well, I didn’t hear what he said because I had my iPod on.

I took one headphone out and said, “What?” “Did you win,” he enquired. He didn’t look dodgy. He was youngish, a little scraggly, but not dodgy. “What do you mean,” I asked.

“Didn’t you just come from the casino? I’m sure I saw you there.” I was wearing my winter coat, gloves and had a “I just woke up an hour ago, so don’t fuck wit’ me, fool” aura, not a “Whee-hee! I just spent all night at the casino!!!!”

“No, that wasn’t me,” I corrected, whilst simultaneously listened to the Stone Roses in my left ear.

“I’m sure I’ve seen you there. Do you go there all the time?”

I tried to recall the last time I went to the casino. A few months ago I’d taken an accidental shortcut through there after I left the theatre on the way to the carpark. Before that, it was probably 1997 back when the casino was new and novel.

“No, I haven’t been there for ages.” The pedestrian light went green. I started crossing Hobson.

“Are you going to the Albion? I’m not following you. It’s just that I’m going to the Albion too.”

I did not want to join in him his gambling wonderland. I did not want to piss away my wallet in the company of a guy who attempts to pick up strange women at traffic lights at 6.50am. I just wanted to get to work, out of the cold.

“Righto,” I said, heading off down Hobson. He disappeared into the bowels of the Albion.

On the other hand, he might have just been going there for their delicious cooked breakfast buffet.