On a rainy Sunday morning, Willow has begun to pack for her move to Oamaru. Winona is keeping her company and helping her decide which clothes to keep or discard. “I love my little house, but if you’ll be renting it I can stand to leave it. And really, I don’t mind moving, because Wellington is turning into Auckland.”
“Nooo-o. It can’t be,” Winona protests. Surely, this is just something Willow’s come up with to make herself feel better about moving away? “You have to explain.”
“First, it’s abnormally warm. I haven’t worn half my fleeces this winter, and I’m wearing spring clothes in the spring. Since when does that happen here? Do you want this fleece? I know it’s a bit big for you but you are, well…”
Winona eyes the pilled forest-green fleece fastidiously. “I’ll be most preggers in the summer, I should be all right.”
The fleece is tossed aside. “Second, everybody’s going out for brunch, just like in Auckland, it’s quite ridiculous. Since when did we all forget how to cook eggs?”
Winona rolls her eyes. Disliking brunch is a hobby-horse of Willow’s – granted, brunch as a singleton in Wellington was always supremely awkward.
“And third, everybody’s got a South African boyfriend. I remember when I lived in Auckland, half the place was Saffies, and I moved down here and they’d vanished. But they’re here now. They’re like meerkats! They’re migrating towards the warmth as the ecosystem changes!”
“No, no, the meerkats are from Namibia. And surely it can’t be everyone?”
Just then, unexpectedly, a sun-worn man stumbles through the door and blushes. “Looking for the loo, hey? Other door, is it? Sorry!”
Winona glances after the broad shoulders and green-and-gold boxer shorts that have vanished through the door. “Is he here for the Rugby World Cup?â€
“Piet’s been here all week. Wazzer said she was going to try and work her way through blokes from all the Cup countries but she got stuck at South Africa.â€
“I can see why!â€
Willow bops her with another polarfleece.
Tags: blokes · other cities · wazzer · willow1 Comment