The Australian

29 Nov

I guess when I pictured a date with an Australian man I imagined a tan, fresh-faced stud who smelled like a breezy field of marigolds.  Or at least Aussie shampoo.  What I actually got was a lanky cowpoke with topographical features who smelled as if he had just munched on a doobie in a dank cellar.

I am experimenting with this new concept where I stick to a two-drink maximum on blind dates.  This ended up backfiring on this particular evening because the bar sold wine by the carafe rather than by the glass.  But who can say no to a carafe?  This is one of my new Rules of Adulthood I wrote down in my lady-diary after I turned 28 a few days ago.  Other rules include “Don’t eat pizza for breakfast” and “Learn how to say no.”

We met at a German beer bar with a bunch of fireplaces and fancy tubed meats.  The Australian arrived shortly after my first carafe was ordered, greeting me with a flaccid hug.  You’ll never believe me, but he described the temperature in the bar in true Australian jargon, saying it was “Warm as a pouch” in there.  This statement allowed me to breach the topic of my kangaroo fascination to him and he bragged about lifelong field trips to joey sanctuaries.  I can’t remember anything else he said because I stopped listening after “joey sanctuary.”  That was all I needed to hear.  He was very soft-spoken and I often had to ask him to repeat himself… but I could’ve listened to his accent for a few more carafes.  Damn, I forgot to ask him about didgeridoos.

Note to self:  The two-drink limit rule doesn’t work if, after the blind date, I meet up with someone else and have 76 more beers.  I reunited with The Night Raven after the Aussie and I went our separate ways.  He had just returned from a Thanksgiving trip to The Big Easy and had a very special surprise for me.  Keychains!  I can always count on The Night Raven when I’m feeling blue for some keychains and good cheer.

Despite my original intention to take it easy, those two carafes made for a rude awakening the next morning.  I came to next to a bag of Cool Ranch Doritos and several strange tweets I had apparently written about how much I love the solar system.  New rule:  Don’t eat Doritos ever again and try not to allow gay bars to enter your realm of possibilities on a Tuesday night.

2 Responses to “The Australian”

  1. Fern Dedeke January 17, 2013 at 1:11 am #

    i really love decorative keychains because they are so cute and functional too.`

    Our very own web blog

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