You Should Run For Office

My Election Winning Darling

I referred in an earlier letter to your impact on the Mayor of Cessnock. The night we dined with my mother and her friend Joy at the Casuarina Restaurant we also met the local mayor. He was an acquaintance of Joy’s.

Now let’s be honest here, he took quite a shine to you. He liked your spirit and your American accent along with some other more obvious assets. Now that was all very good and amusing but the next day we saw him again, and he did not try to hide his obvious pleasure. This time I was wearing a dodgy US army T Shirt (well it wasn’t dodgy just that I always wear a collar and felt uncomfortable being out in anything less). He made a B Line for you. I am not sure he even noticed me.

I should point out that he was old enough to be your grandfather, in his case a rather lecherous grandfather. He just happened to have some trinkets (pens and pins, that sort of thing) with him and he proceeded to ply you with them. I am not sure if he realised you couldn’t vote. I don’t think it was your electoral abilities he was trying to win over anyway.

I just stood by your side and basked in your glory. You were more than match for him and his quite frankly pathetic attempts to gain affection. I loved being able to detach a little and watch you interact with my world. You shone. Your intelligence, wit and beauty were preeminent. I loved being able to watch. I long to do so again.

You Will Always Have My Vote

From Sir With Love


My Politically Incorrect Sir,

I remember the mayor, and I still have his city council pins kicking around somewhere. I’ve seen them recently, but I just don’t know where exactly.  He was so excited to give me those pins.

I honestly don’t recall his age, but I remember that he talked and talked with me while laying his charm on thick. I do believe it was my accent much to my chagrin and not my winning personality.  I daresay he was a little bit intimidated by you (who isn’t?), but that wasn’t surprising to me considering how refined you were and are.

Ahhh yes the sight of you in that US Army tee shirt was pathetic. You hated it, which is why we were shopping for new shirts for you at the time we saw the mayor again. I had never forgotten that you preferred collared shirts. I have no idea why I retained that memory, but I did. I thought I had left that Army shirt with you (I only wore it to sleep in anyway).

I think you always view me in the best light possible, but that is part of your charisma my love.

Civilly yours,


©2014 Darling and Sir


Do The Shake

Dear Socially Conscious Sir,

I don’t know where we were, but we were travelling through the Hunter Valley. We had many adventures. We stopped at some dive I think to get fuel, and they had a small dining area inside. I remember you showing me these meat pies and told me to try one. I couldn’t decide between two, so you bought both and we shared.

We were sitting at a table in contented silence sharing our grub when in walked a rather large family. I don’t mean they had a lot of children. I mean factually – they were extremely rotund. I recall two teenage children. They ordered a massive amount of food and dug in. They heartily enjoyed their meals. The boy had a milkshake. He ate that milkshake with relish. I have never – before or since – seen someone enjoy a milkshake as much as that burly boy.

The boy had his head tipped back, the milkshake glass up to his mouth trying to get every last luscious drop. He literally licked the rim and insides of the glass with his pink tongue as he closed his eyes. His hand was tapping the bottom of the glass to hurry the trickle. He was in some state of sugar bliss.

His sister told him it was time to leave. The boy had trouble putting down the glass. The parents had already walked out, expecting their children to follow. The sister was insisting that her brother put down the glass and leave with her. He pushed his chair back, stood up, started to follow his sister but came back twice to tip that milkshake container to his lips. He appeared crestfallen that he had to leave when there might be a drop or two of his sweet treat left in the glass.

We watched the boy in complete awe during his love affair with that milkshake. I glanced at your face; derision and scorn were etched in your features. You were aghast at his behavior. I started giggling at the look on your face. You stated, “I thought he was going to cry leaving that glass.” I laughed even harder.

I can’t even recall if we finished our food. You mentioned that you think your appetite had vanished due to the lick-love-fest we had just witnessed. We did not order a milkshake. I think we should have in honor of true milkshake love.

I can’t even talk about it with you now without falling into fits of laughter. I can still see the boy, his look of longing, and your face full of disgust. Good times love, good times.

Lickably yours,



My Chocolate Malted Darling

We were in the town of Cessnock when we encountered this sideshow (now may not be the time to mention that you and the mayor of that town developing quite an affinity so I will leave that for another letter). It was a dodgy eatery where we had stopped. I have no idea why. It’s not like I would have taken you to many second rate establishments. No doubt it filled a need. The meat pies of which you speak are a staple part of the Australian diet. Sad I know, but most of our signature food comes in snack form with pies being the preeminent example.

That family was big, really big. I think you are being too kind in describing them as just rotund. They were enormous. They were so large if they remained stationary they would be issued a postcode (that’s a zip code in your American parlance). They moved like one globulous mass. If ever the expression “built for comfort not for speed” were to be employed, it would be for the benefit of these guys.

I remember the boy a little differently than you though. I don’t think he was yet a teenager. He was just so big he looked like a teenager. He was humungous.  In fact I would go so far to say that he was probably taller lying down than he was standing up.

Boy oh boy he sure loved that milkshake. He inhaled it. In fact the milkshake disappeared so quickly that the only way you could hope to consume it more quickly would be to surgically enhance your mouth and esophagus. That guy had suction. To steal a famous movie line….”he could suck start a leaf blower.” Man if he wasn’t so young you would have been well within your rights to describe his actions as “lightning fellatio.”

He was heartbroken to leave. He and that milkshake glass had developed quite a bond. I think he had visions that it may become a basket of plenty, where if he returned enough times it may magically refill. Sadly that was not to be the case, but it was not for want of trying.

It was hysterical I know. We laughed and laughed about it. On more than one occasion we would look at one another, smile, and then burst into fits of giggles. Without saying a word we both knew it was the “Milkshake Kid” that had tipped us over the edge. They were good times my love, very good times. Let’s do them again.

Inhalingly Yours

From Sir With Love

©2014 Darling and Sir