Sex and the Station

“Here’s the RFDS box. It’s got everything in it, from Panadol to the morning-after-pill. Just come see me if you need it.”

If I need it? I reel back in horror.

What kind of first impression have I made on the station wife if I’m already being shown the emergency contraception? Scanning my potential shagees, my dignity is in tatters. No amount of Passion Pop could send me rolling around in the hay with these fellers. Ever.

That was two months ago. I’m not sure what happened, but all of a sudden I find my standards slipping. When I first arrived at the station I turned my nose up at any proposal for a midnight fling. I was a woman with standards. Now I find that these “standards” have been downsized to “well, at least he’s coherent”. Which basically renders them useless.

If no new talent waltzes through the homestead soon I know I’m going to end up bedding the roo shooter. And God knows that’s not a good situation. Perhaps that’s what the emergency contraception’s for. Not for a night of passion that had you losing yourself so much that you forgot to take care of some minor details, but rather, for a night that you’d just prefer to forget in general.

Jakers. Rachel Treasure has been lying to my naive heart for years. She’s been filling my loins with hot station men, who get around with bronzed bare chests and snug fitting Wranglers. Who respect women, have cheeky smiles, a fully functioning brain and an emotional IQ. What the flock are you drinking Ms Treasure? What. The. Flock.

Ladies and fanoirs everywhere – I hate to be the bearer of bad news. Look, you might get lucky. Alex from McLeod’s might actually exist (and not just in a mid-day fantasy). But be prepared for the best talent in the camp to be downing Emu Export as if it’s the nectar of the Gods, to sport a beer belly in the making, to laugh like a jackhammer and to be at least a decade older and more weathered than you’d expected. With a kid, probably. And a criminal conviction. But I’m sure he’ll be a sweet guy. And a lot of fun. You only live once. Besides….it’s been two months.


This article has been contributed anonymously under the pen name “Howgirl Cowgirl”.