Dating In Climate Crisis Australia
Joe is a third-generation sheep farmer. Muscular and rugged from hard work, with a golden tan and short blond sun-kissed hair, Joe is a manly man, with big hands and a beaming smile. From the moment I swipe and land on him, I am hooked.
Initially, Joe makes me wait. Then, a week after my initial swipe, he returns my compliments. Soon we are frequently texting. Our exchanges became bolder, and on Skype over time, matters between us become hot and heavy.
Stuck in a legal office all day, bashing out reports on my Desktop Mac, impatiently I watch the clock until it is 5pm. Only then can I shut down my computer and rush for the Piccadilly Line. The Tubes are always packed, so with standing room only, and on ‘by mistake’ groper alert, I keep my bum against the partition and my bag covering my front bits. It is dark by the time I get out of the train at Cockfosters, the chilling wind and rain lashing my legs.
Back in my apartment, I fix myself a gin and tonic, thinking of manly Joe, grabbing the ears of a sheep and corralling them into a shed. Ever since I read ‘The Thorn Birds,’ I have wanted to return to Australia…
