Whether you’re facing layoffs or are just an emotional junior staffer, it’s always a good idea to scout out a good crying place before you need it. 

It’s an incredibly hard time for Wellington. Across the city, public servants are hearing tough news about redundancies and layoffs. Government departments have been asked to find cost savings between 6.5 and 7.5% before the May budget, which means thousands of people will soon be out of a job. 

Families will be stressing out about how to pay the bills and put food on the table during a cost of living crisis. Young, ambitious staff will be knocked off the career ladder with no idea what to do next. Many people will face one of the most traumatic moments of their professional lives.

If you are on the receiving end of a redundancy notice, it can be hard to know what to do next. You can’t just go back to your emails while processing such awful news.

Sometimes, there’s nothing more healing and replenishing than a good, hearty cry. But due to “society” and “cultural expectations”, crying in the office can be an uncomfortable experience for everyone involved. Whether you’re facing layoffs or are just an emotional junior staffer, it’s always a good idea to scout out a place to cry before you need it. 

A good crying spot needs many things. It should be convenient, close to your place of work and/or emotional damage. Ideally, it should have a nice vibe. It should be private, away from the crowds. And it should be subtle; if you are spotted crying, can you play it off as something else? 

Here are some of central Wellington’s top spots to cry:

Old Government Buildings (Victoria University Law School) 

Just opposite parliament, the law school buildings are within easy walking distance of most offices on Lambton Quay and The Terrace. Pick any bathroom and have a good hearty sob. If you slip in something about “Cooke J” or “Fitzgerald v Muldoon” every 30 seconds or so, you’ll sound like any other student having their weekly breakdown. 

The Speaker’s Lawn 

The Speaker’s Lawn is a calming place, around the back of parliament. It’s small, private, and filled with flowers and hedges for extra coverage. It’s already proven to be a great hiding place – government MPs recently held a national lamb day BBQ there while avoiding a Freedom for Palestine protest.

The bucket fountain 

Cons: very public. Pros: You can disguise your tears as splashes from the eponymous buckets. Or, you’re one of the many tourists who are reduced to tears upon finally viewing its majesty in person. 

The Mount Victoria Tunnel

If any other pedestrians dare venture into its dark innards, they will probably also be crying due to the buildup of fumes and the incessant honking noises, so you’ll fit right in. 

Antrim House 

A rare piece of lush green grass in the CBD, the Antrim House lawn is a great place to lie down, stare at the clouds, and mull over that impending sense of doom and dread. The building is now the headquarters of Heritage New Zealand, so make sure you don’t stay too long or they might put a heritage listing on you and use it as a reason to block new housing. 

The Harry Holland statue at Bolton Street Cemetery

Bolton Street Cemetery is central to town, with lots of nice trees, flowers, and private nooks. You could pick any tombstone to have a quiet moment, but there’s none more glorious than the statue of Labour Party leader Henry “Harry” Holland, featuring tight ass, six-pack abs, and a mostly formed penis. If anyone sees you, they’ll assume you’re just weeping at its majestic glory. 

The parliament slide

The parliament slide offers two possible crying spots: on top of the slide (very visible) or curled up underneath it (also quite visible). You also risk looking like you’re having strong feelings about the anti-vax occupation. 

The top of the Frank Kitts Park lighthouse slide 

The old Frank Kitts lighthouse slide was an icon, but unfortunately it was also an extremely effective instrument for breaking children’s legs. The replacement slide is nowhere near as good at breaking legs, but has one significant advantage: the slide is opaque, rather than translucent, making it a private and calming spot to shed a tear. 

The front of the cable car

The Cable Car provides a cathartic and soothing ride through the full spectrum of human experiences, from the dull grey under the urban motorway, through the mind-expanding light show in the tunnel, to the serenity of the botanic gardens. It’s an emotional thrill ride, and as long as you sit in the front seat, no one can see your face. 

Pegasus Books

Pegasus Books is a mysterious wonderland. No matter how many times I visit, the layout never becomes any clearer. New rooms seem to appear out of nowhere, drawing you in with increasingly obscure genres, like “comparative religion” or “books about books”. If you keep making left and right turns, you will presumably end up in a room of your own, where no other being has ever set foot. It is your own personal kingdom, where you can be whoever you want to be, and cry as long as you like. 

The City to Sea Bridge

What are those wooden sculpture things? Nobody knows. But they offer a great variety of weird shapes to curl up behind. Bonus: you could play off your tears as mourning for the bridge itself, which is probably going to be demolished soon.

St Mary of the Angels

Churches are a fantastic place to escape for a solitary moment, especially in the middle of the day. St Mary’s is a Catholic church, so if you want to fit in, make sure to blame your redundancy on your own spiritual failings that have doomed you and your children to lifelong inescapable guilt. 

Your car

If you are lucky enough to have a work-provided carpark or rich/insane enough to pay for daily Wilson’s parking, your car seems like the obvious choice. But beware the vibes. Parking buildings are ominous concrete mountains of sadness. If you spend too long in one it will start to consume you, sucking away at your serotonin like a thirsty child draining a Ribena. Instead, try driving to somewhere with an ocean view. The car park on the airport side of Lyall Bay is an excellent place of solitude. 

Marvel: Earth’s Mightiest Exhibition at Tākina

The odds of anyone else seeing you are close to zero.