Love in the Time of Canberra

So.  Fifty Shades of Grey is the new black eh?  Since Canberra is the most erotic place in the world (Paris is often described as “the poor man’s Canberra”), and I am the current world champion of eroticism, it only seems natural that Canberra Appreciation Month should get everyone’s nether regions a bit moist…

Feel the Power

Chapter 3:

It was a cold day in Canberra – colder than usual, and it was usually pretty cold.  It was cold enough that if you were to say, “It’s a cold day today; colder than usual,” people would tend to agree with you, even if they had already said it to three people that day and were starting to get sick of people commenting on how cold it was. 

Edmund wasn’t feeling the cold though; he was wearing his new ski jacket that he’d bought the week before during Kathmandu’s bi-weekly half-year 70% off everything except jackets sale.  He felt as warm as his computer’s hard drive when he left his computer logged on over the weekend, looked twice as good and moved half as fast.  As Edmund walked past a row of cubicles to get to his office, he heard Amber say, “It’s a cold day today; colder than usual.”  Just the sound of Amber’s voice made Edmund’s local member stand taller than Telstra Tower.  He wanted her more than Don Furner wanted a Raiders home final.  She had a voice as captivating as Haley Jensen from the first season of Australian Idol.  He had always thought that her beautiful tones would have been better used on Scotty and Nige’s breakfast radio show, but that would have been a disservice to her face, which had the elegant beauty of a sunset sky over Lake Ginninderra while people practiced kayaking.  Her body was also exquisite, but all-too often hidden beneath figure-hiding coats and jumpers, except on casual Fridays, in which it was hidden by her best Reebok sweater.  How Edmund longed for her body – her breasts reminded him of the beauty of the War Memorial; two of them, in fact.  Maybe they were photos of the War Memorial, laid side-by-side, with her identification badge swinging between them on the luckiest Departmental lanyard he knew.   

He could only dream of the warm pleasures that lay lower.  He imagined it would feel like stepping into the baby pool at the Erindale Leisure Centre, without the constant subconscious thoughts of bacteria and urine, and fear of stepping onto a submerged nappy.

Chapter 5:

They lay in a post-coital glow, like the one a supermarket gives off when it has closed but there’s still a display light on and you can see it from the car park when you drive in hoping to be able to pick up some bread for a sandwich for lunch the next day because you had a meeting over lunchtime and you weren’t sure if you would be able to get out of the office, even just down to the café underneath your building to get a ham and cheese roll for $7.30, and you just knew that no one had bothered organising corporate sandwiches for the meeting.  You’d even be hungry enough to eat the ones that had tuna in them, or the ones that had the consistency of Clag glue with small chunks of chewing gum in it.  But that supermarket was closed, and you pretty much knew that when you got in the car way past closing time (7:30pm) anyway.

“I’m hungry,” said Edmund, moving the bedsheet away so he could go to the kitchen. 

“Me too,” said Amber, with a glint in her eye, like the green Homeworld sign in Tuggeranong.  She wasn’t talking about food.  “I’m not talking about food though,” and she reached for Edmund’s hand, pulling him in the way a fisherman would pull a discarded shoe out of Lake Burley Griffin. 

“I’m really fucking hungry though,” thought Edmund.  “For food.”  But it was too late, as Amber had already enveloped him back within the King-size-doona-for-a-double-bed-that-made-it-a-bit-awkward-to-share that he had bought at Costco for $79, and their love-making was back on like discussions about a light-rail system connecting the Town Centres. 

Amber had wanted this for so long – her excitement of having Edmund in her bed was more than she felt for the 2013 Canberra Centenary celebrations, which she was sure would involve performances from Jessica Mauboy and three local Canberra bands, appearances from former Canberra Raiders players, current Canberra Raiders players, two ex-ACT Brumbies coaches and – most importantly – a grand fireworks display that turned the ACTEWAGL building into a silhouette if you stood in the right place and squinted at the right time.  Everything about Edmund was perfect; his “I used to play rugby in high school and made the 2^nd XV” physique, his collection of cuff links and shirts that had cuff link holes in the sleeves, the way he didn’t wear a tie on Fridays, even the way he smelt like hand-sanitiser was alluring to her.  And as he made love to her like a drunk 19-year old would make love to the sheep statues outside the Subway restaurant in Civic, her dreams were being fulfilled.  Before long, his Sky Plaza erupted like the Captain Cook jet. 

At that moment, she wasn’t sexually satisfied, and he was still hungry.

Later, they spoke about people at work that they didn’t like and thought about having sex again, but didn’t because they had other things to do: he wanted to take his car to Car Lovers, and she had plans to meet a friend at the Limelight cinemas because each session was only $8.50.  It was a female friend though, so Edmund wasn't too bothered.  And he didn't want to go with her anyway because he'd already downloaded the film onto his laptop and secretly thought people who still went out to see movies were stupid.  He did intend on watching it later that night though, and the thought of seeing the same movie as Amber but in two different suburbs, separated only by the Parkway, was enough for him to get another erection.