Australianophile

My obsession with Australians started when I was living in San Francisco and met my first Aussie at one of those after hours warehouse parties. We were both slouched together in a bean bag chair and ended up talking for a hours, telling each other every dirty joke we knew. He came over and helped me break into my little studio in the Mission (believe it or not, it wasn't because I lost my keys it was because the locks on the door were finicky) we lay on my futon mattress and I listened as he read my high school year book out loud in his best Crocodile Hunter impression. "It waaas the most daaan-gerous prom night in the woooorld" and right then and there I knew he was special. However, at this time in my life I was very, very fickle and his specialness quickly wore thin, what with the calling me for dates and all and wanting to spend time with me. We lasted about a month or so of him pursuing me and me not wanted to be tied down. Much to my surprise he got the clue, found someone who liked him back, and ended things with me. Naturally I was devastated and thus began the epic WALLOWING where I cried non-stop and couldn't stop obsessing about the love of my life (who's last name I don't even remember at this point) was gone forever and how he was never coming back to me. After several days of exhausting weeping I finally called my friend Taylor to come rescue me. I don't know what it was, probably the desperation that came through when I screamed "Save me!" and then threw the phone down, but Taylor literally leapt off the treadmill at 24 Hour Fitness and raced to my rescue. At this point I was so weakened from the wallowing that I didn't even have the energy to open the door for him. Fortunately Taylor had a key, so I didn't have to get up off the floor. This is how he describes the sadness that awaited him when he burst into the room: "You were laying on the floor all sweaty, wearing nothing but a pair of blue sparkle panties and a black turtle neck sweater. When you looked up and saw me you screamed, "WHY ARE YOU WEARING THAT HAT??" and started crying hysterically." In his rush to get to me Taylor had forgotten to remove his souvenir "Australia" hat from a recent vacation. After my rescue I recovered from my heartbreak, but had developed a crush on the Australian race and set out on a quest to discover new and exciting Australian friends.