So I just spent the morning walking up and down Queen Street looking for Mag Nation so I could get a copy of idN. I’d been talking about it last night and figured I should pick up a copy to keep me and Cinto inspired. No dice, so I walked past a dude begging for money and went into McDonalds for a consolation prize. I didn’t look at him but he still said “Have a nice day then.”

Fluffy Asian Spotted with Street View

On my way back to work I get stopped outside the diary just up the road. Next to it there is a surreptitious Escort Service which I’ve only seen muslim looking dudes going into. I always look when I go past in the hope I’ll see a real life hooker. Alas they always look normal or downright ratty, nothing like Sin City at all.
Anyway, this Maori lady comes running across the road at me and goes “Excuse me Excuse me! Can I use your phone! I’m stuck in town and I need to text someone.”
I oblige and hand her my phone, staying as close as possible and vowing in my mind that the kiddy sized cup of juice in my hand is the first thing I’m going to drop when I start chasing her down the street for my phone back.
As she’s texting a guy in a dull red car across the road revs and screeches off. Angry tire sounds galore. She looks up angrily at the leaving car and tuts. “My friend ganked him, he’s really mad.”
She goes on to say that her friend had “ganked” them last night like a bitch. Apparently her friend had (She quickly cranes her neck past me down the road) “Snowballs” and stuff to trade but it all went tits up. “I don’t want to hang around to much longer in case he gets back. he’s getting angrier and angrier.”
“Oh.” I reply. “Does that txt your sending let your partner know where you’re gonna meet?”
“Hmm, where should we meet?”
“… I really don’t know.”
As we wait for her partner to call back we sit on some steps and I try and pry from her whether Ganking means stealing or ditching. I was 80% sure it was stealing.
She asked where I worked and I said I worked at a magazine. She gasps and tells me not to print anything she said. I said not to worry, I’m a designer, I don’t do any of that writing stuff. I mean, where could I possibly put my words for just anyone to see, right?
Her partner texts back “I dnt hav bus money”
Well crap. I’m not gonna hang around her much longer while she tries to remember all her friends numbers and texts them one by one.
“how much do you need for your bus?” I ask.
“5 dollars or something.”
“Oh yup, probably 5.60.” I whip out a ten that’s in my pocket and give it to her.
“Oh wow thanks so much, wait could you text my partner back and tell him ok?”
she dictates to me a message to send and then gives me a hug and leaves.
“Where’s your work?”
“uh, it’s just down the road.”
“Oh ok, well I have your number now, thanks so much!”
Shit. I’ve just gotten involved in someone’s drug network.