READ THIS FIRST

Taking place right now is an event to which I have an invitation. However, I’m sitting on my folded-out couch under a duvet with my unopened linguistics textbook mentally emotionally preparing for my exam tomorrow.

One Tuesday night relatively recently, I sent the following text to a special friend:

Is it bad if I can’t eat without having a glass of wine?

(I’d just baked a cake and drank even more wine than I ate raw mixture.) It was followed up with a call from said friend begging me to join him at a bar, where his fling was having his moving-to-Australia-and-never-coming-back party. So I joined him. I mean, who wouldn’t, right?

Several amusing things happened which I will note in passing for my own bitter amusement:

• The chap who was leaving insisted on pashing my friend who made frightened eyes at me (I was behind the pasher and this in the pashee’s line of sight) and then began to flail wildly while managing to convey to the pasher that he was just hugging him eagerly.
• Friend was desperate for some hash browns so we went to McDonald’s where he said to me I CAN’T TALK YOU HAVE TO BUY THEM! I went to the counter behind which someone I often see in dreams was standing and said IS IT TOO EARLY FOR HASH BROWNS being very aware that I was talking inappropriately loudly but having no ability to dampen my voxvolume. I spilled a pile of very small change on the counter and they said no breakfast closed fourteen hours ago. Friend mumbled filetofish and I said WHAT and he replied FILETOFISH. I said CAN I PLEASE HAVE ONE OF THEM (pointing to the bit on the sign above the counter where it had a small picture of a Filet O’Fish). They seemed to understand what I wanted. I quietly sang ‘Auld Lang Syne’ while they made it and then we left.
• Ourside McDonald’s appeared a shopping trolley. Naturally, friend climbed into it. I pushed him along while he et his Filer O’Fish. He insisted on swapping roles which we then did.
• In the trolley he had the bright idea to visit Wellington’s glor-ious sauna Checkmate. I thought that would be all larky so we went there by trolley. We entered and at the, er, box office there was a man with a TREMENDOUS moustache. Think:
  
  only less Dutch and more leather. Friend asks him HOW MUCHOS and he replies TWENTY EACH. It is at this point that I begin experiencing severe doubts as to the wisdom of this escapade - as friend was relying on me for the money. I said HOW MANY PEOPLES R IN THER and the handlebar said one. And he’s just leaving. We edged towards the door and escaped back onto the street.
• After this we ran down an alley and took a photo of ourselves. At my concern of who might be down this dark barricaded-off alley, friend replied DON’T WORRY WE BOTH KNOW HOW TO GET RID OF RAPISTS. GIVE THEM WHAT THEY WANT AND TAKE THEIR CREDIT CARDS.
• Finally going home, friend abruptly jumped into a thorny bush. Repeatedly.
• After I managed to rescue him from his impulsivity, we continued walking up through the streets of Mount Victoria when he decided (without articulating his intentions) to take some envelopes out of people’s mailboxes. I thought he was going to swap them around and bamboozle their owners, but - no - he collected them and then started opening them. I tried to make him stop but WHO AM I TO BLOW AGAINST THE WIND?!

So I think I can finish digressing. Only the last point will be relevant here. One of the stolen envelopes had the Spanish ambassador’s seal on it. It was an invitation to <!— /* Font Definitions */ @font-face {font-family:”Cambria Math”; panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4; mso-font-charset:1; mso-generic-font-family:roman; mso-font-format:other; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:0 0 0 0 0 0;} @font-face {font-family:Calibri; panose-1:2 15 5 2 2 2 4 3 2 4; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:swiss; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:-1610611985 1073750139 0 0 159 0;} /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-unhide:no; mso-style-qformat:yes; mso-style-parent:”“; margin-top:0mm; margin-right:0mm; margin-bottom:10.0pt; margin-left:0mm; line-height:115%; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:11.0pt; font-family:”Calibri”,”sans-serif”; mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family:”Times New Roman”; mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi; mso-fareast-language:EN-US;} .MsoChpDefault {mso-style-type:export-only; mso-default-props:yes; mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family:”Times New Roman”; mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi; mso-fareast-language:EN-US;} .MsoPapDefault {mso-style-type:export-only; margin-bottom:10.0pt; line-height:115%;} @page Section1 {size:612.0pt 792.0pt; margin:72.0pt 72.0pt 72.0pt 72.0pt; mso-header-margin:36.0pt; mso-footer-margin:36.0pt; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} —> la recepción de los Reyes de España at the Hotel Intercontinental this afternoon. And I’m not there. And I’ve spent this whole post trying to articulate why and I still can’t. WHY AM I NOT WITH THE SPANSH QUEEN?! SHE’S FREAKING FABOO!

Still I sit and pretend to study for my exam tomorrow which I am poised to fail …