A Bucking of Tradition?

So, it seems that other people that I know have involved themselves with the whole 'I'm going away, and because I'm too lazy to constantly write emails, I'm going to start a blog and you buggers can read that instead'.

Sounds great to me, so I'm in on the whole deal. The 'bucking of tradition' is, I guess, that I've decided to begin before leaving the country (This may or may not be what other people do. I dont know, it was a catchy title).

Anyways. Its the 15th (well, it was at the beginning of the evening) and I leave on the 27th. Some organising yet to do, but more importantly: Merriment! (most likely involving drinking). So, boozing was to be had on this very eve, and a big squidgy thanks to people who invested their time in coming to see me in my native habitat. Great to catch up with people before I go.

Anyway, after a lovely evening of chatting and boozing and whatnot, I capped the night off with some thrashing around at our favourite loud music establishment (by favourite, I mean - only). Never had much problem there before, but I thought that this particular interchange with some random on the way to the john was worthy of posting:

Me: "Bro'" (nods head to some guy just coming out of the toilets)

Random skinhead guy: (stops...) "I'm not a bro..."

(rolls up his sleeve and points at his wrist) "See... I'm white..." (bizarre kind of 'anti-grin')

Me: "Ah..."
(the portion of my brain in charge of intelligent response has buckled under the weight of an evenings boozing.)

(guy walks off)

Hmm. I spend the rest of the evening kind of hoping to not run into said character again; especially not for an in-depth discussion on the intricacies of race-relations in NZ.

You can expect more of this crap (maybe). Rejoice!