EFFIE BATEMAN | Lifestyle | Contact
As she stares daggers at her boyfriend getting up at 5am to put his running shoes on, Betoota Heights woman Aviary Goth  begins to wonder what the fuck she’s done.
When she’d envisioned a ‘holiday’, she was thinking more of a ‘drink cocktails by the pool’ with the occasional sightseeing kind of thing.
Maybe a Ping Pong show.
Not hiking through a forest. Or climbing a fucking mountain.
Two activities she already agreed to go on, in the hopes of getting some couples RnR time in response.
But no, it appears that Paul’s idea of a holiday is very different to hers – as evident by him now standing at the end of the bed and looking at her with the expectant expression of a kid waiting to open a present.
“Babe you ready!?”
“For what?”, she grumbled, half asleep.
Pressing two fingers to the bridge of her nose, Aviary calmly informs Paul she actually plans on getting shitfaced by the pool today, followed by a massage, and then maybe a frolic on the sound.
“I’m sure the stalactites are lovely this time of year Paul, but I’d literally rather eat glass than go caving.”
“Do you remember the 12 boys stuck in the cave? Do you want that to be you?”
“Are you a sun roof baby or something? Is that why you yearn for the caves?”
“I’ve already squeezed myself through a tight canal, I don’t want to do it again.”
More to come.