The Hangover From Heaven


I’ve just woken up after a big night in unfamiliar territory. The room is pitch black and once I find the strength to drag my heavy head off the memory foam pillow I have every intention of grabing my shit and fleeing the scene of the crime. But then it occurs to me that this isn’t completely unfamiliar territory, in fact this house belongs to the guy who I have been dating for a couple of weeks now. 
But where is he? A note left on the side table reveals all…
Ok so, the fact that there is bacon in the fridge eliminates any chance of me doing a runner. Smart man.
So what exactly do you do when you’re left to your own devices in someone else’s pad? Well first things first – you check out what you’re working with. 

That right there is Bondi Beach, which tells me that there must be several other housemates squashed into tiny rooms downstairs. No one can afford this kind of view on their own. Perhaps Mr. R lives with three other guys who he calls The Beachhouse Kings? Maybe we can all get together and the girls and I will eventually be able to migrate from Surry Hills to The Eastern Suburbs for the Summer…

Perhaps not.

I draw open the curtains fully and the room lights up around me. Instantly I notice an unopened bottle of mineral water and two painkillers on my bedside table like a gift sent directly from baby Jesus.

A winning combination of sparkling water, Panadol and sunshine seems to almost completely dissolve my hangover.

But before long a new feeling begins to take over…hunger.

I decide that it is time to leave the Kings quarters and venture downstairs to meet the other tenants and hopefully get my hands on some of that bacon.

To my surprise there are three other rooms, two of which are completely empty and one that has been transformed into a mini gym. Downstairs I find another beautiful balcony, which wraps around the whole floor. But no other people. This is too good to be true.

Out of the corner of my eye I spot a large glimmering object…a double door stainless steel fridge. I race across the room and yank it open revealing an outstanding spread worthy of a Pinterest post.

I mean LOOK AT THAT LAMB CHOP and uber cute tartan glass jar. This leads me to the second thing you should do when left to your own devices in someone else’s house and no thats not gawk at the contents of their fridge but make yourself useful and indispensable!

Chances are if their pad is as nice as this one that there are going to be plenty of other girls out there dying to get a glimpse at that expansive gas stove top (am I the only one who gets turned on by state of the art appliances? In The Dirthouse if you want to cook anything you have to rub two sticks together).

So what I’m trying to say is that you have to do something to set yourself apart from the rest. Which means that you have to get cooking missy. We all know that I’m not the greatest cook in the world but like most of you reading this post I have a smartphone which makes up for any shortcomings I have in the kitchen.

The first thing you’re going to do is check out what they have in the fridge. Type those ingredients into google and ta da! Breakfast for two. Make sure to not use all of their food because if your breakfast turns out like shit then they will still have something to eat when they realise you’ve wasted half of their weeks groceries.

No pressure πŸ˜‰

I was lucky that Mr. R has revealed himself to be somewhat of a chef. In his fridge I found:

  • Organic eggs
  • Organic avocado
  • Organic, grass-fed bacon
  • Butter
  • Organic spinach 
  • Onion 
  • Coconut cream

Now its important that when cooking breakfast for a man in an unknown kitchen that you stick to what you know. Don’t try and get too fancy. If you’re good at flipping eggs make a veggie omelette, if you’re excellent at poaching eggs, do that. But if you’re like me and want to keep it safe…scrabbled eggs are more than enough. Begin with preparing everything for cooking, remembering to clean as you go. You don’t want him to come home to a messy kitchen…thats a big no no.

If you’re making scrambled eggs thicken your mixture with a dash of milk or any milk substitute (soy, almond) to give it that thick fluffy constancy. Mr. R is paleo so I used an already opened can of coconut cream. Set to the side.

Only start cooking when you know that he is on his way home. Cook the eggs last.

Bacon is pretty straight forward, after cooking put it in the oven to keep it warm. To give your breakfast a gourmet edge, sautΓ© whatever veggies he has in the fridge (kale, spinach, zucchini). For my breakfast I added a dash of coconut oil to a medium hot pan and cooked onion until slightly translucent, added a touch of garlic and then combined my shredded spinach. Coat with a generous amount of butter and season with salt and pepper.

It was about 11:30am and Mr. R still hadn’t finished his meeting. I was starting to feel somewhat like a desperate housewife sucking my teeth on the balcony and pouring myself one too many glasses of sparkling water. And then I thought fuck it. I’m no ones girlfriend let alone ‘desperate housewife’ I’m going to eat that damn bacon.

And thats exactly what I did.

Of course I left him half and put the rest in the oven for him to heat up when he eventually got home. He called me an hour later but I was already in a cab on my way back to The Dirthouse. Mr. R was surprised that I wasn’t waiting for him when his meeting eventually finished, but hey I’m just not that kind of girl.

I did however manage to make a good impression with my breakfast. Mr. R loved that I had gone to the effort to cook for him and called me later on to tell me how he also loved that fact that his pillows now smelt of my perfume (sneaky trick 101 always keep a trail size perfume in your bag). And as for me, well after my super relaxing morning I felt better than ever. In hindsight it could have been the two white pills ‘panadol’ I took when I woke up that made me feel so comfortable in such a strange environment or it could just be the fact that I’ve finally met Mr. Right.

Either way I’ll definitely be seeing him again this weekend and it sounds like a shopping trip is on the cards πŸ˜‰

Oh life you cheeky little devil you always manage to keep me on my toes.

Until next time lovers
xx

Miss P
About me

Heaven on Bourke is a lifestyle blog created by Miss P, a twenty-something author of a Pleasure Guide pamphlet most commonly found in luxe vibrator boxes. True story! She loves to travel between her beachy hometown of Noosa and London's upmarket Notting Hill, where she writes a smut column for a lingerie empire. Off duty, Miss P brunches in the city and dates many interesting characters. All findings on real life, sex and love are recorded in this honest lifestyle blog for your viewing pleasure. Enjoy gorgeous!

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