Twitter user Leo Molloy (Image: Tina Tiller)
Twitter user Leo Molloy (Image: Tina Tiller)

OPINIONSocietyJanuary 25, 2024

Leo Molloy vs the city of Wellington

Twitter user Leo Molloy (Image: Tina Tiller)
Twitter user Leo Molloy (Image: Tina Tiller)

He thought he was visiting New Zealand’s capital city. Instead, the owner of Headquarters Bar took a journey through a harrowing ‘third world’ wasteland. 

Leo Molloy, owner of Headquarters Bar, failed Auckland mayoral candidate and stale lump of Play-Doh imbued with the soul of an angry wasp, spent last weekend in Wellington. To the relief of Wellingtonians everywhere, he did not like it there. 

“Spent the weekend in Welly,” he began his travelogue on X/Twitter. After landing at Wellington International Airport, Molloy was on a one-way mission into town. Presumably, he hopped on the Airport Flyer bus, which for a mere $5, took him directly to his first location: Courtenay Place. 

Molloy stumbled out of his bus. He was aghast at what he saw. The weather this weekend was bright and sunny. The footpaths were jam-packed. There were takeaway restaurants and craft beer bars with al fresco areas. A cold sweat came over him. Something had gone wrong. He was supposed to be in Wellington, but had accidentally stepped through some kind of portal and ended up somewhere far worse. 

“Courtney [sic] Place is now a third world shambles,” he wrote. Struggling to describe exactly the horrors he saw, he could only point to two cities which are definitely not part of the so-called third world. Wellington, he determined, was like “Beruit [sic] meets Dublin after the financial crash circa 2010”. 

Dublin was going through a tough time in 2010, after a sharp property bubble and economic downturn. The unemployment rate was 12.5%. The latest unemployment figures for Wellington: 3.2%. Meanwhile, Beirut in 2010 was experiencing a shaky and short-lived peace after years of civil unrest and terrorist attacks. 

Molloy took an unstable step forward. His head swirled with all the surrounding destitution. “Lots of rough sleepers down on their luck,” he noted. Also, the “bus shelters stink of urine”. These things would never happen in his beloved Auckland. 

He was lost. He searched for anything he recognised, a landmark in this wretched wasteland. Finally, he saw it: Molly Malone’s Irish Pub. He sprinted, delirious with joy, like a parched man in the desert runs to an oasis. But as he got closer, it dissolved into a mirage. Molly Malone’s had its “doors and windows shuttered,” Molloy lamented. Molly Malone’s has been closed since 2015. The building is earthquake-damaged and has been seemingly abandoned by its owner. 

Courtenay Place and/or a ‘third world’ wasteland.

Molloy took out his iPhone 5, plugged in his wired headphones, and played the saddest song of 2015 (‘See You Again’ by Wiz Khalifa ft.Charlie Puth). His day went from bad to worse. The nearby Hummingbird Eatery and Bar, owned by Newstalk ZB host Nick Mills, was closed for repairs. Then, the final nail in the coffin: a fashion boutique was having a closing down sale. (I called that store and it turns out they weren’t closing down, it was just a really good sale). 

With his discovery that unhoused people exist and two businesses from nine years ago had closed, it was clear to Molloy that there was no coming back. He shed a silent tear for Wellington. The evidence was almost as damning as when The Post’s editor Tracy Watkins decided Lambton Quay no longer deserved the moniker “golden mile” because Wishbone, the world’s worst sandwich chain, had closed down. 

Molloy knew there was only one solution. “Might be time we relocated parliament and the national museum to Auckland though as that ain’t no capital city any longer, it’s a shithole.” Wellington needed to be put out of its misery. We’ll airlift The Beehive and Te Papa to safety, and cover the rest of the city with dirt, leaving a message for the people of the future: “This place is not a place of honour… no highly esteemed deed is commemorated here… nothing valued is here.” 

As he returned to the airport for his flight home to The Big A-Hole, Molloy spared it in his heart to offer one compliment to the capital: “Queen’s Wharf had a good vibe”. 

Why does Leo Molloy’s opinion of Wellington matter? It doesn’t. Not one iota. Leo Molloy is an unoriginal man with no ideas of his own, who has confused his own inane rambling for provocative insight. But Molloy’s lack of originality is exactly what makes his complaints notable. 

Declaring Wellington dead or dying has been the easiest op-ed in New Zealand journalism for the past few years. But at least those pieces mostly focused on problems and solutions, written by people who genuinely want the city to succeed. 

Lately, though, it feels like things have taken a different turn. Wellington is being dragged into a culture war it never asked to be a part of. Right-wing media figures are jumping at the chance to declare Wellington a ghost town, a war zone, or a third world country, with no attempt to engage with the underlying issues the city faces or interest in solving them. 

Molloy out front of the main entrance to Headquarters (image: Tina Tiller)

Criticising Wellington has become popular because it’s a lazy shorthand for criticising the kinds of people who live there: Progressives, urban liberals, oat-milk-latte-drinking hipsters, whatever descriptor you like best. The people who elected a Green mayor and two Green MPs. If bad things happen in Wellington, the logic goes, it proves left-wing politics is a failed philosophy (even if it has nothing to do with the actual problem). 

The same phenomenon is common in the United States, where Fox News and its cohort spend an outsized amount of time focused on cities like San Francisco and Chicago, convincing their viewers to be terrified of places they have never been

Wellington is a city with problems. Transport, housing, and earthquakes that left buildings damaged and pipes cracked. Wellingtonians shouldn’t shy away from those issues. But we should be wary of bad faith criticism from people like Molloy who just want to see this city fail. And a quick note to Leo, whose ego is too big not to be reading this: Come back to Wellington and check out Courtenay Place once the Golden Mile upgrade is done. You’ll like it. I’ll buy you a pint. 

‘Hutt Valley, Kāpiti, down to the south coast. Our Wellington coverage is powered by members.’
Joel MacManus
— Wellington editor
Keep going!
Image: Tina Tiller
Image: Tina Tiller

SocietyJanuary 25, 2024

Help Me Hera: Should I roll the dice on a Dungeons & Dragons based romance?

Image: Tina Tiller
Image: Tina Tiller

Not only am I nine years older than her, I’m also her dungeon master.

Want Hera’s help? Email your problem to helpme@thespinoff.co.nz

Dear Hera,

I (30,f) find myself in a predicament. There is a girl who I find incredibly attractive, and who I have chemistry with, but there are a couple of issues:

1. She is nine years younger than me, and

2. I currently DM a Dungeons & Dragons game she is a player in.

Both of these could be navigated and be non-issues, but she recently confided in me that she has been somewhat socially isolated of late, and that she really appreciates me including her in the game because of this. I feel like if “anything” happened, as long as we were open and communicative that everything would be fine. 

Would everything be fine? Or is there no way the scales could be balanced in any way that could be fair? I haven’t had a relationship in a while and want to pursue some form of something with her, but I don’t want to hold an unequal position of power over her either.

Regards, 
‘No that’s not what I meant by dungeon master’

A line of fluorescent green card suit symbols – hearts, clubs, diamonds and spades

Dear Dungeon Master,

You’re sitting in a dusty old tavern. It’s a cool evening, in early spring, and there’s the smell of roasted ham and sawdust in the air. A fire crackles merrily in the hearth, and the tavern echoes with the sound of laughter and 6+ HOUR PLAYLIST OF AMBIENT MEDIAEVAL LUTE FOR ADVENTURE AND EXPLORATION. A sudden breeze cuts through the room, making the candlelight flicker. You look up and see a stranger, silhouetted in the doorway. 

Forgive my delight. It’s not often I get to answer a lesbian themed Dungeons & Dragons question about appropriate age-gaps, even though it’s precisely what this column was invented for. I’ll try and keep the fantasy ambience to a minimum, but forgive me if I get carried away. 

I can see why your age gap has you worried. Nine years is a lot, especially when one of you wasn’t alive for the fall of the twin towers. But it’s not inherently exploitative. Like most legal relationships, there’s no hard and fast rule. The question is largely vibes based, and depends on the two individuals in question. A 25-year-old geologist and 50-year-old wildlife photographer, brought together by a passionate love of volcanoes? Romantic. That guy who hangs around the video game arcade, trying to strike up a conversation with teenage girls about Neon Genesis Evangelion? Creepy. You’re just a year short of the traditional yardstick, half your age plus seven. But when it comes to love, the arithmetic isn’t always so simple. 

My personal feeling about age gaps is when the youngest party is over 25, the question officially becomes nobody else’s business. Calling into question an adult woman’s ability to meaningfully consent to sex with Robert De Niro is frankly insulting. That doesn’t mean dating younger people is out of the question. But it’s worth taking a little extra care, if only because it’s easier to unintentionally fuck up someone’s life. 

There are different kinds of age gap relationships. There are the Leonardo DiCaprios of this world, who exclusively date young Italian supermodels. There’s no point losing sleep over this. I can only imagine everyone involved is handsomely compensated with lavish Mediterranean holidays and expensive wristwatches, not to mention Leonardo DiCaprio. 

Then there are those who intentionally seek out younger partners precisely because they’re easier to manipulate, or because people their own age won’t put up with them. I know a few people who dated guys like this, and they almost always lived to regret it. 

Then there are normal age gap relationships, where two people have a surprising connection, and have to navigate the ensuing social awkwardness together.

The fact that you’re considering the power dynamics is a good sign. But all relationships are built on uneven ground. Power is a mysterious and fluid force, which can’t easily be calculated. Not to mention, there are plenty of different kinds of power. Financial. Social. Life experience. Green card status. Being insanely hot. If we all tried to fuck people with identical stat sheets, nobody would be able to have a relationship outside their own race, gender, income bracket or character class. 

As a dungeon master, you have significant power over this girl. Such as the power to unleash a horde of vengeful goblins, or raise a skeleton army from the dead. Of course, you should wield this power wisely. Don’t send her to rot in the lost caverns of Tsojcanth if she rejects your advances. But in terms of your age gap, what responsibilities do you have?  

You have to accept a few basic realities, such as accepting there’s a higher than normal probability of you getting dumped for a guitarist named Jethro, or your girlfriend quitting her job and running off to South America to work a tourist riverboat. These are developmentally appropriate activities, and there’s no point getting mad at a 21-year-old for acting like a 21-year-old. As far as possible, make sure your age difference doesn’t stand in the way of your partner experiencing all the terror and joy and infinite variety of youth. Be prepared for her parents and friends to treat you with suspicion, until you earn their trust. Try not to use your nine years of extra life as an excuse to bulldoze your younger partner, or emotionally outmanoeuvre them. But as long as you have a foundation of mutual love and respect, I don’t see a problem. 

In fact, the biggest difficulty has to do with your campaign. This girl is obviously thrilled to have found a new social group. It would be a shame if you confessed your feelings, and it scared her off Dungeons & Dragons forever. But what’s love, without a little risk? 

I say wait until your campaign is over. This way, if things get awkward, you don’t ruin the game for everyone. There’s nothing worse than trying to prevent the Black Spider taking control of Wave Echo Cave, when the DM and resident paladin are having some weird interpersonal conflict. Wait until the next logical break in the game, and then give that D20 a roll! 

Want Hera’s help? Email your problem to helpme@thespinoff.co.nzRead all the previous Help Me Heras here.

‘Become a member to help us deliver news and features that matter most to Aotearoa.’
Lyric Waiwiri-Smith
— Politics reporter