True love in Melbourne

Ahh...true lurv...aint it grand...All that strolling hand in hand on the beach, drinking red wine in front of open fires, dancing naked in the rain (with perfect hair) and mutual multiple orgasms five times a day...it’s all good…

Although...for those of us not living in a Mills & Boon novel, sometimes...it’s not quite so good…

Some friends of mine, let’s call them Phil and Lizzie, met one hot December night not long ago and knew instantly (and with no more than 5 or 6 drinks under their belts) that this was Destiny.

Never before had two young lovers had such an instant connection, such a true meeting of mind, body and soul, such instant (and only mildly alcohol fuelled) lust...

Ignoring the accompanying scoffs, jeers and occasional catcalls, Phil and Lizzie linked hands and set off into the murky St Kilda sunset.

Despite their glowing and ever so slightly smug recognition of each other as a soulmate, Lizzie knew that true love doesn't come to those who fuck on first dates, so she fended off Phil’s advances that night. She wanted to wait for the right moment, she wanted to be sure that everything would be absolutely perfect for their first time together, Phil agreed… and so they waited...and waited...and waited… three months went by...still they waited…

Finally, just before Phil’s left hand had completely seized up, they decided that their time had come.

Phil, not wanting strangers intruding on their evening, decided they should have a candlelit dinner alone in his luxurious Formica kitchen and proudly announced that he would cook, with his own two hands, the perfect meal for their perfect night.

Hours he spent selecting the wine, poring over Stephanie Alexander and Jamie Oliver to find the right recipe for their favourite hot Thai curry and then scouring the city for the freshest ingredients - no mere dried chillies or packet herbs for his one true love!!

All afternoon he chopped, peeled, simmered and stirred, tasting and testing every stage, a soupcon more fresh chilli here a sprinkle more coriander there… finally, just as Lizzie arrived in a cloud of expensive French perfume, the feast was ready.

You can imagine, after all that time, how the meal went, can’t you? The trembling anticipation, the passionate glances across the candlelit room occasional bouts of nervous giggling...kinda makes you want to puke a little bit doesn’t it?

However, moving smoothly on, Phil and Lizzie finished their meal and, taking wine and candles, departed for the bedroom and the much anticipated highlight of the evening…

Then...umm...how to explain this without using sphincter loosening euphemisms..? Frat boy parlance might be the best option...

So, Phil eventually got to third base and, after a minute or so, was pleased and a little bit self congratulatory on the extent of Lizzie’s response…

Then, slowly, it began to dawn on him... Lizzie writhing about and shrieking “ow.. OW… OOWCH!!!” might mean that something was not quite right...

Was he doing something wrong… ?

Nooooo, that couldn’t be it…

“You did wash your hands after chopping up all that chilli, didn’t you?” Lizzie asked, in an agonized whisper….

Ahhh!! That could definitely be it!

Phil, being an eminently practical man, decided that it would be best to deal with the immediate problem first and fall to the floor and laugh his arse off later. He raced off to the kitchen and grabbed a tray of ice cubes and some milk.

For most of us, milk-coated ice cube insertion and all-the-lights on detailed genital examinations generally don’t happen until the second or third week. Phil and Lizzie managed all this (although admittedly, not much more than that) on their first night together...it may not have been perfect, but it was definitely unforgettable…