On Thursday night, while Jesse Ryder lay in intensive care in Christchurch Hospital after a savage and apparently random beating that has left him fighting for his life, I drove home from work just after midnight.
It was quite the obstacle course. I have to drive from the city centre through Ponsonby to get to Grey Lynn - and Ponsonby is famous for its bars and nightclubs. All of which were closing at midnight because of Easter licensing laws.
Groups of young men staggered across the roads, clutching drinks and each other. Young lovelies with short skirts and long faces made their separate ways, alone, to taxis double- and triple-parked along the strip.
It wasn't an angry scene but it could have turned on a dime.
I remember when I was maitre d-ing in Courtenay Place in Wellington in the early-90s. The area was evolving into a night-time destination but there were still a few scraggy old strip joints, panel beaters' shops and dodgy takeaway-cafes around.