Australian Adam...

Early this evening something happened in our little close.

It was an evening just like any other. You could hear commuters driving home; young children were making the most of the lighter evenings and were playing on their bikes outside. There was a chill in the air and a little flutter of snow...but you wouldn't have guessed that tonight would have been different from any other.

I was sitting in my kitchen staring at a computer while a friend made some coffee. The heating and the radio was on. All was normal...and almost serene.
The calm before the storm you could say.

As I sip the coffee made by my friend and we start gossiping, my mobile telephone vibrates a message. 'Men in my house. Get here now!'

Abandoning the house like the Mary Celeste my friend and I wander over to Pootles house to check out her guests. To be fair, I actually know two out of three of them, and know them quite well...however it is the third one that we want to meet.

Australian Adam. He has become a bit of a phenonmenon. He has become synonymous with moving on and meeting someone new. My friend M mentioned to me that we all need to meet Australian Adam in order to start the process of chatting to someone new.

In the future, women will talk about moving on in that way, "oh yes Sally, yes she is going out again...she is in her Australian Adam phase."

It did look a little like a scene from Desperate Housewifes as we entered Pootle's house, or a very threatening and dodgy looking moment from Charlie's Angels. I am sure I saw a fleeting terrified look on Australian Adam's face. Poor man.

He was tall, with a whisper of a beard and kind eyes. He was perfect; for Pootle.

My friend and I approved. "I can see it now," she said, "building your fire in the outback, sharing a tinny together...fire flickering in the reflection of your eyes."
I agreed, "Yes, definitely. Playing the digeridoo."
"Or on his?" Says my friend with a raised eyebrow.

Pootle likes. Pootle approves...he is a bit of eye candy for her and a little bit of flirting never did anyone any harm, and is always good for the soul.

"There is only one problem," says my friend after they have gone.
Pootle and I look at her, really?
She nods, "yes, did you mean to leave your underwear on the radiator?"
Pootle's hand goes straight to her mouth in shock while I nearly fall off the kitchen work top laughing. "Oh my god!!! I am mortified."
"Oh I don't know...they're not that bad." I suggest.
"Not that bad? My time of the month knickers are on there!" She bemoans. "Do you think he saw them?"
My friend nods, "it would have been hard not to. He warmed his hands up on the radiator."
Pootle is crestfallen. "Oh god, I am never gonna meet a man am I?" She says despondent.

Who knows? Let's hope that Australian Adam is into underwear in a big way...cos there was plenty of choice lying there.