There’s a very particular brand of douche native to Australia: ripped singlets, neon pink short shorts, hairless skin glistening like morning dew on a fresh squat rack. They love a good punch-up at Stereosonic almost as much as they love their own reflection. And it’s a good thing they’re so into themselves. Girls sure as shit aren’t.
But if you can be a 6’3” surfer with shredded abs and tickets to Flume’s next show, be that instead.
It’s the immediate choice, right? Warm, gorgeous, secluded, and it makes a good story. Then you walk down the hill and realize that ten other people wanted to tell the same story the next day. In groups of two, spaced just about evenly every 50 feet going down the sand. Did you need a reservation?
The possibility of getting caught by roommates? Exciting. Feeling a deadly Taipan crawl across the back of your legs because you thought drunkenly doing it in a field would be even more exciting? Not really a turn on, unless you have a fetish for shitting yourself in front of your date.
It is, however, a good place to meet drunk and horny guys who also thought Ladies Night would be a good place to meet women.
Because when there’s literally nothing to do except drink and screw, and you’re literally the last man within 100 miles with all his teeth, eventually those walls are coming down.
Bitch all you want about having a 21+ drinking age, but at least it means most fake ID owners are at least 19. In Australia, you may need to ask whether her mom is picking her up before you start buying her drinks.
If she’s calling you a cunt, it doesn’t mean that her mama didn’t raise her right. It just means her mama raised her here.
Go ahead and try and impress her with stories of that time you went to Bali. She hasn’t spent a Christmas in Australia since 2006. 
We use cookies for analytics tracking and advertising from our partners. For more information read our privacy policy.
