Jake/
Gold Member
Next topic: Cheap Aussies 
My first encounter with the elusive “cheap Aussie” happened, appropriately enough, in Armadale.
I’d spotted an ad on Locanto, sent a message and was pleasantly surprised by the quick reply. Price confirmed, instructions received, and before long I was cruising toward the address feeling like I’d just accepted a side quest with absolutely no idea what the final boss looked like.
I messaged to say I was nearby.
Almost instantly: park on the designated side near the pool.
Very organised. Five stars for logistics already.
I casually wandered toward the door trying to look like a man who definitely knew exactly what he was doing. The door opened and there she was — mid-30s, very curvaceous, big bust, pale smooth skin and long hair tied into a top knot. Definitely attractive, but with a wonderfully normal suburban-mum vibe.
The house completed the picture: kids’ toys everywhere.
She apologised for the clutter and warmly ushered me through the domestic obstacle course into a clean spare room with a soft queen-size bed. It was such a strange contrast — one minute I’m carefully stepping around toys, the next I’m thinking, Well… this escalated quickly.
Then came the most Australian romantic ritual imaginable:
“PayID okay?”
Out came the iPhone. Tap, tap, tap.
Bing. Sent.
Her phone went bing.
“Thanks.”
Nothing says sensual anticipation quite like instant bank settlement.
Within moments the suburban small talk had disappeared and things became considerably more energetic. Clothes vanished, chemistry kicked in, and what followed was a very enthusiastic encounter that left both of us red-faced and catching our breath.
By the end I was lying there like a stunned mullet wondering how a $120 Locanto expedition had turned into the highlight of my afternoon.
Then, almost instantly, normal life resumed.
She slipped her dress back on, asked what I had planned for the rest of the day and politely chatted while I attempted to regain some dignity and locate all my belongings.
“Got everything?”
Yep.
She escorted me back through the toy minefield, I gave her a quiet thank-you at the door, and off I went — grinning like I’d just discovered a secret Armadale loyalty program nobody had told me about.
For $120, it became one of those little adventures I happily repeated whenever the opportunity appeared. Eventually she moved away and vanished from the scene.
And that seems to be the tragedy of the legendary cheap Aussie encounter: occasionally you stumble across absolute gold, enjoy it while it lasts… and then one day the mine closes forever.
Armadale produced a few gold mines in my time. None lasted forever, but some definitely earned a permanent place in the archives.
My first encounter with the elusive “cheap Aussie” happened, appropriately enough, in Armadale.
I’d spotted an ad on Locanto, sent a message and was pleasantly surprised by the quick reply. Price confirmed, instructions received, and before long I was cruising toward the address feeling like I’d just accepted a side quest with absolutely no idea what the final boss looked like.
I messaged to say I was nearby.
Almost instantly: park on the designated side near the pool.
Very organised. Five stars for logistics already.
I casually wandered toward the door trying to look like a man who definitely knew exactly what he was doing. The door opened and there she was — mid-30s, very curvaceous, big bust, pale smooth skin and long hair tied into a top knot. Definitely attractive, but with a wonderfully normal suburban-mum vibe.
The house completed the picture: kids’ toys everywhere.
She apologised for the clutter and warmly ushered me through the domestic obstacle course into a clean spare room with a soft queen-size bed. It was such a strange contrast — one minute I’m carefully stepping around toys, the next I’m thinking, Well… this escalated quickly.
Then came the most Australian romantic ritual imaginable:
“PayID okay?”
Out came the iPhone. Tap, tap, tap.
Bing. Sent.
Her phone went bing.
“Thanks.”
Nothing says sensual anticipation quite like instant bank settlement.
Within moments the suburban small talk had disappeared and things became considerably more energetic. Clothes vanished, chemistry kicked in, and what followed was a very enthusiastic encounter that left both of us red-faced and catching our breath.
By the end I was lying there like a stunned mullet wondering how a $120 Locanto expedition had turned into the highlight of my afternoon.
Then, almost instantly, normal life resumed.
She slipped her dress back on, asked what I had planned for the rest of the day and politely chatted while I attempted to regain some dignity and locate all my belongings.
“Got everything?”
Yep.
She escorted me back through the toy minefield, I gave her a quiet thank-you at the door, and off I went — grinning like I’d just discovered a secret Armadale loyalty program nobody had told me about.
For $120, it became one of those little adventures I happily repeated whenever the opportunity appeared. Eventually she moved away and vanished from the scene.
And that seems to be the tragedy of the legendary cheap Aussie encounter: occasionally you stumble across absolute gold, enjoy it while it lasts… and then one day the mine closes forever.
Armadale produced a few gold mines in my time. None lasted forever, but some definitely earned a permanent place in the archives.
