Fresh

Every now and again I like to get up quite early on a Saturday and head down to the local mall, just a little before it opens.

I like to swing by the Henderson Courthouse.

There's an old homeless guy who sleeps in the Courtroom entrance outside the main doors.

I buy him a pie and a pack of cigarettes.

Over the years we've become somewhat familiar.

I've never quite managed to get his story from him but I'm sure it would be interesting, if I could...

He's a rather grizzled old fellow, not what I would consider tough but certainly hardy and he doesn't smell all that bad really.

He can wolf down a pie faster than anyone I know but it's the cigarettes that have won him over...

I don't usually stay with him long.

I can tell it makes him nervous and uncomfortable but I usually stay to talk with him long enough to ask him a couple of questions about the most topical issues on the news at the time.

At first I started doing it for my own amusement but also I was hoping to see how sane the guy was, mostly because every time I had stopped to chat, offer a cigarette and asked his name he had proffered different ones... I still don't know his real name.

He's usually very gruff and at times can be extraordinarily racist, especially toward Maori people, I guess a lot of the kids that give him a hard time during those cold nights are local Maori kids.

But being that I'm Maori and I most of all know what that entails, what he has to say could never offend me - lets face it there are times when my lot can be pretty bloody useless and even I can feel quilt by association!

But nearly every time what he has to say has me in stitches. I've learnt not to laugh out loud at him now, it seems loud outbursts of sound make him nervous... But some of his responses are absolute gems and I'm certain that under the booze addled exterior there lies a very astute and wonderful mind.

Anyway last Saturday I got the 'go to the mall early thing' (which is what this blog is about really..) and I thought 'go get a pie and some smokes and go pay Dave, Pete, Steve, Gav, Rick a visit'.

So after he'd breathed down his pie, struck up his first cigarette and carefully hidden the pack in his voluminous coat, I asked him what he thought about the state of the Commonwealth Games debarcle in Delhi.

"Arrrrrr well son" he rasped at me (he always calls me son even though I'd only put him at 5 or 6 years older than me)

"Every living thing has an arsehole". "And planet earth... planet earths arsehole is India!"

"Even bloody England didn't want it son!"

Well bowl me over with a feather!!!

Never underestimate that old homeless guy you walk past on the street. He may have a lot more going on in there than you have given him credit for.

****

Anyway what I was meant to be getting to was that I really like being the first or one of the first people into a mall in the morning.

I like the way it's all new, fresh and shiny.

My local Mall always smells like fresh coffee and Jaffle pies and it's always warm...

To me, getting to the mall at this time is much like when somebody rips the cellophane of a new box of assorted chocolates and offers me the first one. I already know everything that is in there but it still feels special to be the first one to look in there and make a choice.

I like to sit in the food hall, sip my hot chocolate and watch the people that come there to eat breakfast at that hour.

I make up stories about them...

That guy over there is a soldier just recently returned from Afghanistan, struggling to fit back into civilian life or sleep later than 5AM. He's crept out of the house while his family still sleeps so he can have breakfast at a time that he's become more accustomed to...

That woman there is sneaking home after spending a night at her lovers house, grabbing a quick coffee before racing home to beat her husbands return from another night shift...

The grandmother there is struggling to control three kids dumped on her by her ingrate children...

It can keep me amused for quite awhile...

It's a nice sensation, however false - of superiority.

I was here before the place was despoiled by the hordes that will soon be pouring through the many doors, jostling and scrambling.

The teenagers in their secretive little groups, the girls giggling and flicking their hair, the boys furtive and so projective of non existent confidence.

The grannies with their hand carts and purple rinses.

The busy moms with two sulking kids in tow.

Yes it is nice, like being first to the Christmas tree on Christmas morning.

Try it one day - I highly recommend it...