NZ continued...

So where was I with NZ? Ah yes…running from police…almost running out of gas and having pretty much what will go down in history as one of the WORST mornings ever!

The day got better as my Rippy mates took me out for a fun filled night on the town. I will sum it up with this. We ate, we drank, and we were happy to find out the next day that everyone was still alive! It was too much fun and again one of the reasons why I miss NZ so much.

After our night out I was down to only one day left to get rid of our hunk-o-junk “snow white” (that was the name that Niki happily bestowed upon our car). I had to either sell it or take it in to be dismantled. Luckily in New Zealand, they gladly pay car owners up to 300 NZD to have their cars wrecked. And since we paid only a mere 500 NZD for Snow White, the 300 NZD was sounding like a nice rebate.

I had displayed a colorful “FOR SALE” sign inside the car for about a week (for a mere 400NZD) hoping that someone would rescue Snow White from her horrible dismantled fate. I was even offering those interested a discount…but there were no takers and I was forced to make an appointment to have Snow White torn to shreds.

On the morning of dismantling I was up way too early again. I had to work at 10 a.m. and needed to get to the dismantlers by 8 a.m. to ensure I had enough time to hitchhike back to the city (don’t worry. The dismantlers were only about 10 minutes away, and hitchhiking in NZ is totally safe…I promise).

So as I sat and drank my delicious instant coffee I could feel a set of eyes watching my every move. Not interested and not in the mood to mingle (sheesh, it was 6 a.m.) I continued to ignore the glances. After about 10 minutes I had had enough! So I looked up at a young 20 something doe eyed girl staring at me and said hello. She returned my hello with another American hello and that’s when it all went to s*%#.

We chatted for a while, exchanging the usual “where are you from” and “what are you doing in New Zealand”. She was another American (if I remember correctly from Colorado) who had just arrived the night before in NZ and really had no clue about the country (I think the best thing that she said was “I had no clue that New Zealand was so much smaller than the US!”…DOH!!) About 20 minutes into our conversations (and about 500 questions about NZ later) it came up that I was selling my car (or at least I was trying, but unfortunately had to get it dismantled…bla bla bla…). I don’t know if it was my charm, my good looks, or amazingly useful used car salesman skills, but I had this girl dying to meet Snow White.

With my coffee in hand I led little miss America out to meet Snow White. She seemed interested and baby I sold that car like no one ever has. I was so good at selling that thing that she even bought it knowing EVERYTHING that was wrong with it…the brakes, the alignment, the unpaid diesel tax and so on and so on…I mean shoot! The damn thing only cost 300 NZD…and I even gave her the phone number of the wreckers that would give her 300 NZD to have it dismantled if for some reason she called her daddy that afternoon and he wasn’t too keen on having her drive a 1984 Toyota Corona. It was a deal made in heaven. I didn’t have to hitchhike, she got a car for dirt cheap and I was done with all my responsibilities for the day with time to spare. Man I was feeling good.

On my way to work I walked my new American friend to the post office to ensure that the car was changed over to her name and that all the responsibilities of Snow White were now on her and not on me. She paid me my 300 NZD and I was off to my last day at Rippy NZ.

My day at Rippy was pretty uneventful. Folding t-shirts, talking to customers and the usual retail nonsense. Oh wait…there was one fun thing…I almost totally forgot! About an hour before I was due to get off I caught a shoplifter. And this wasn’t any ordinary catch…this was mad fighting on the street, scream battle, in-your-face kind of a thievery catch! Long story short, a Maori girl came into the shop and while we were all busy filled her bag full of stuff and proceeded to walk out the door. As soon as she did the alarm sensor went off and she just kept walking (that’s when you know their guilty…no one ever keeps walking if they haven’t stolen). So I excused myself from my customer and went after her (stupid? Maybe.).

I ran out the door and started yelling, “Hey, you just beeped walking out the door. Hang on.” What did she do? Ah yes, she kept walking…trying to pretend like she didn’t hear me. Oh man, did this piss me off! So I ran after her and stopped her dead in her tracks by stepping right in front of her walking path.

And this is how it all went down:

Me: Hey! You beeped walking out the door. I know you stole something.

Her: What the f*&% are you talking about. I didn’t steal anything (in a very aggressive tone).

Me: Yeah you did. I can see the jandals (that’s what they call sandals in NZ) in your bag. Give them back.

Her: Bugger off, bitch. I didn’t steal.

Me: Do you hear how loud and obnoxious my American voice is. Do you know that if I yell help that there are going to be about 20 people here in 10 seconds. I have no issues screaming and making a scene…I like the attention. So you can give me the jandals or we can do it the hard way.

Her: F*$# you (as she hands me the jandals…more like throws them at me).

Me: And I want the other pair too. (We are still walking at this point…people are starting to stare)

Her: Are you crazy? I don’t have anything else.

Me: I’m getting LOUDER (as my voice goes up).

Her: F*$# you (as she pulls the other pair out).

Me: Now the last thing I want is the jumper that you stole too. Just give it to me or I will go in and get it.

Her: God you’re a f*&%-ing bitch. I don’t have a jumper. Stop saying that I have more.

Me: Ok fine then, I am going in after it.

Her: For Christ sake, BUGGER OFF (as she gave me the last item in her bag).

Me: Now that wasn’t too hard, was it? You’re lucky I didn’t make that hard for you. I never want to see your cheek pierced (yes, she had her cheek pierced) face in Rip Curl again. You messed with the wrong American.

Maybe I was a bit harsh. I will admit that I left some of the colorful language out of this rendition. I know that some of my readers don’t appreciate foul language. I had to leave some in for affect. But, needless to say, I was feeling pretty good about my catch and it was a good way to end my working in NZ.

So I said my last goodbyes to the crew and I was heading back to my hostel…ready to spend my last night in NZ peacefully. All I needed to do was pack my bags and get rid of any unnecessary junk that was not entirely essential from Australia.

As I walked up to the hostel the owner greeted me with what I thought was a joke…”Hey Rach, saw your car on the tow truck today…so I guess you couldn’t sell it after all…” WHAT? Tow truck? My heart immediately sank. Not only because I knew that a tow truck meant a horrible fate for Snow White, but I also knew that dismantlers gave car owners significantly less money if they came and picked the car up as opposed to having it dropped off (which I told little miss America when she bought the car).

So I ran into the house looking for this girl that bought my car, remembering that she had let me leave some stuff in the car until I got back from work. Man I was going to killer her if she left that stuff in there when they towed it!

Finally I found her, and probably in a less that polite tone, asked her what the heck was up? In a sad attempt to push my guilty button she told me how she had taken the car to a mechanic (which I had told her not to do) and that he found out about the diesel tax (that’s why I told her to avoid mechanics if she could) and that he wanted her to pay up the tax before he would work on the car. I guess she had a freak out and decided that she wasn’t willing to live on the edge like we were and opted out of being a car owner.

So being that she was a complete moron, she called a company and had them pick the car up and had it towed. She didn’t get 300 NZD, and she paid 80 NZD to have the car inspected. STUPID. That day ended up costing here about 180 NZD. A hard life lesson for this poor girl, but one that I think was necessary.

Some of the people at the hostel was trying to make me feel bad, telling me that I needed to pay her the difference of what she lost on the car. HELL NO, I said! I told her the deal. I didn’t force her to buy the car. I told her what she needed to do to get all of her money back. I GAVE FULL WARNINGS. I am not responsible for people’s stupidity.

Is that too harsh of me?

I don’t know. I was my last day in NZ and I just couldn’t be bothered to clean up the mistakes of my fellow American. I gave her all the info that she needed and that was all I could do.

Anyways…that was my last night in New Zealand. Tomorrow I will tell you about my flight to Sydney and arriving in this ENOURMOUS city (well, it’s pretty big to me).

Until next time…see ya mates!!