Southerly by David Haywood

A Night to Remember with Alan Bollard

So Alan Bollard phones me, and he's like: "I'm totally ready to sort out the Briscoes lady once and for all."

And I'm like: "Too right, mate!". Then I go: "But I'll just have to phone Jennifer first. Not that I need to ask permission or anything, but just 'cause I like to treat my lady right."

Five minutes later I hear Bollard's ute in the driveway. I get in the passenger seat and he just looks at me, and asks: "Dude, why are you so totally pussy-whipped?"

He floors it, and I'm about to broach the subject of demand-driven fiscal policy, when he tells me that he's just sunk a dozen bottles of DB Brown. I'm like: "Dude, should you be running the economy when you're totally wasted?" And he's like: "Fuck off, are you my mother or something?"

So we arrive at Briscoes and Bollard gets out. He lifts the tarp on the back of the ute and takes out a softball bat. I'm like: "Dude, I don't think violence is necessary -- and I bet the Briscoes lady doesn't either." And Bollard goes: "She should've thought of that before she got on my fuckin' nerves."

He marches into Briscoes, and goes up to the counter. "Where is she?" he says. The shop-assistant guy goes: "Who?" And Bollard goes: "That fuckin' perky bitch from the telly, who else?"

And the shop-assistant guy is like: "Why do you think she'd be here?" And Bollard goes: "She's the fuckin' Briscoes lady -- where else would she fuckin' live?"

And the shop-assistant goes: "She lives at her own house. She just an actress, you dick."

And Bollard and I are totally embarrassed because, of course, that hadn't occurred to either of us.

So Bollard thinks about it for a second, and before I can stop him he gets the softball bat, and smacks the shop-assistant guy on the side of the head. I'm like: "Dude, what the fuck did you do that for?" And Bollard yells: "He shouldn't have called me a dick."

Next thing the cops turn up, and Bollard's still yelling. But now he's going: "You can't arrest me! I'm Alan Bollard! I'm the governor of the Reserve Bank!" And the cops are like: "Well govern this, you bitch." And they cuff him, and shove him in the police van.

So I catch the bus home, and as soon as I walk in Jennifer asks: "Where's Bollard?" And I'm like: "He's in jail."

And Jennifer goes: "What is it with you and people called Alan? Didn't you learn anything from that time you went to K-mart with Alan Greenspan?"

And she hardly talks to me for the rest of the night.

Note:
David Haywood is willing to sell the exclusive rights to this true story to New Idea, Investigate Magazine, or similar publications.

    The above is an extract from David Haywood's very strange new book, 'The New Zealand Reserve Bank Annual 2010', due for release in November 2009.

His previous book 'My First Stabbing' is available here.