Dinner with the folk's.
Onehunga, 1973. New Zealand
This is not good.
I told myself as I raced around my untidy digs.
Tossing stuff all over the place looking for something reasonably clean to wear.
Clean? That's a laugh.
This is dumb.
Out of the hot tub.
Knick myself with a new razorblade.
Bleeding like a stuck pig.
No alum in the medicine cupboard.
Dammit. Toilet paper and red dot on face.
Always the same spot when I'm in a hurry.
Splash cologne on. One drop splashes on the end of my penis.
Wonderful. Dancing madly out of the steamy bathroom in agony.
Dance back in to splash cold water on the raging fire.
Mirror telling me my hair is ridiculous.
Give it up.
Whose idea was this?
Dinner with her folks.
This is not good.
Look at me, what am I doing?
Check my watch.
What time did Rushki say?
Am I early, or late now?
Damn, where’s that other shoe?
Tripped over the guitar trying to pull a sock on.
What a racket.
Keep telling myself.
New Zealand isn’t anything like Australia.
This country was settled by mostly God-fearing people.
Beep-beep. Rushki’s here.
This is nuts.
How do I look Rushki?
Too much cologne?
I smell like a cat-house on Saturday night?
We’re here..Hello to everyone. Lots of smiles.
Lots of handshakes. Let the ordeal begin.
Drinks all around. Oh God. Here we go.
Have to tone down the militant attitude for her father.
Working man. Middle-class values. Conservative tastes.
Mom? Mom’s a mouse. Very quiet. Hardly there.
Disappears into the kitchen a lot.
Ruishki's older sister. Very cool lady. Instant liking. Fun to be around.
Very lovable. Not married yet, but working on it.
Haven’t met older brother. Not here. Supposed to be a good guy.
Married and settled.
Dinner is quiet, reserved and strained.
We’re working without a script or a net here.
Dad doesn’t like ‘non’-Kiwi’s.
I’m on the crapola list immediately.
Rushki looks scared stiff.
Trying to please everyone..
Clock noisily ticks on around the dial a couple of times.
Rushki comes home with me and stays the night.
I don't think it went well.