OR You Can't Make Stuff Like This Up!
As a bit of background, I've been traveling in New Zealand for about five weeks now, and I have to say that this is one of the most beautiful countries in the world. The landscapes are incredible, especially in the south island, although the volcanic areas of the north island are also amazing.
But, to be honest, the towns are... well... a bit dull. Usually.
Except this past Saturday night in Thames, New Zealand.
Now, I arrived in Thames after a day of driving around. I had been to the Lord of the Rings Hobbiton movie set earlier, and was heading up toward the coast of the Coromandel Peninsula. I was just looking for a cheap place to stay, and Thames seemed to fit the bill.
The Backpacker (hostel) was situated over a bar, and I made the mistake of asking if they served food, since I was absolutely starving. They did, and the proprietor promised to introduce me to some of the locals, after telling me they were holding a Rocky Horror Picture Show contest. Having just recently seen the movie again in New York, I thought, naively, that this would be an innocent, fun way to spend my night.
I returned to the bar after dropping my bag off in the somewhat skanky room, and the proprietor sat me next to two fifty-something women who were dressed... and I use that term loosely... as if they were prostitutes escaped from some sort of mental institution. I guess they were supposed to be something from Rocky Horror, but I couldn't quite see the connection. There was a third woman, a bit younger, who was pouting in disappointment that her husband wouldn't let her go out in public dressed that way. Now, I'm usually quite opposed to controlling husbands, but I have to admit that I could see his point... he didn't want to die of embarassment. It seems almost needless to say that the women were already roaring drunk, and it was only 7:30pm.
As I was waiting for my food, Riff Raff arrived. Yes, another one of the locals actually put together a fairly good Riff Raff costume, although he himself was a bit scary looking. He was tall (the heels accentuated his height) and thin... very thin... almost emactiated... with scabs on his neck and legs. He came and joined the little group I was sitting with.
Oh, Riff Raff also had a sock situated in the front of his lycra tights, and the "prostitutes" starting playing with it. They then asked me if I wanted to "ride his Kiwi experience" (a lewd word play based on a New Zealand bus touring company). I laughed politely, and tried to ignore them.
The bar filled up, a few more people arrived in costumes (the proprietor actually put together a really good Frankenfuter costume), my food came, and the karaoke started. Oh yes, there had to be karaoke, didn't there? And this was not, in any way, good karaoke.
The "prostitutes" and the younger woman all got up and were doing an interesting dance together, and I was left alone at the table with Riff Raff. There was then a bit of commotion that caught my attention.
Now there is no politically correct way to say this, so I'm just going to go for it. There was a retarded midget masturbating and singing karaoke in the corner of the bar. He had only been wearing his briefs, a long vest, and a plaid hat (I guess this was his Rocky Horror costume), and he had pulled his briefs down and was... er... pleasuring himself while singing. Fortunately, I was on the side and his vest covered my view of the proceedings.
I turned toward my companions at the table, and I guess a bit of my... astonishment... showed on my face. Riff Raff leaned over to me, and whispered, "Don't worry. He does this all the time."
Then Riff Raff continued, "Oh, by the way, did anyone tell you that you look nice tonight?"
I blinked again.
Now, I had spent the day driving, hiking, and stepping in sheep shit. I did not "look nice."
Oh fuck, I thought. Riff Raff is hitting on me. And the retarded midget is still masturbating in the corner.
But the weirdness of the evening was nowhere near over. Soon after the midget "finished" (and no, I did not go to the corner to see if he had really finished), they called one of the "prostitutes" up to the front of the bar. It seemed that it was her birthday, and so they presented her with a... are you ready... sparkly purple waterproof vibrator. Yes, really. And, since she was sitting near me, I got to see the sparkly purpleness in its full glory.
Of course, later in the evening, Riff Raff tried to hand me the package the vibrator came in, but I had become quite good at ignoring him.
I must say that my evening in Thames, New Zealand was a bit more... surreal... than I was expecting. And yes, I managed to avoid Riff Raff's advances.
Ain't traveling grand?
On a fanfiction note, I have to admit that it's been quite hard to write/post anything while traveling. My access to the Internet has been spotty at best. But, I am starting a Snape/Harry epic that I've had in my head for months now (I outlined the story and began writing, by hand, the first chapter).
And I hope to do some work on the next chapter of A Very Snarry Romance over the next few days. Since I'm still traveling for about another month or so, I make no promises as to when either of these will actually be posted.