Gone Missing....

"Nothing lasts forever...." Davey muttered to himself, as his wife woke him from his noon codger kip. He was listening to the radio commentary about his useless football team. So far this season, his beloved boys had no sense of achieving any goals. Today, of all days, his team needed goals, Dave was having a rest easy day off in lieu of some overtime he had accomplished.

"Dave! Get here right now!" His wife was menopausal, but that was now a politically incorrect misogynist thought. Dave heeded this command, always peaceful, while zipping his lip to curtail rebellious words. 'What's wrong now, dear?" he asked his now portly bride, mother of his teenagers, equally bossy females. Some characteristics are inherited, but that is a renegade concept.

"Listen to the loo! It won't stop flushing." Dave hove too, and tried his usual techniques, checked his stash of home hardware bits and bobs. No, he concluded, his plumbing skills had gone missing, just like his football team's hopes for kicking goals and winning matches. He sighed, as he told his wife, "The cistern needs a new seal. I have to drive to the hardware, back shortly."

As Davey set off to drive in the rain, not far away, his wifey rolled her eyes, realistically turning off his useless footy shows, to open her latest romantic navel-gazing novel, by her favourite chick lit author. In her books, all conflicts were resolved in 250-300 pages, with a sensual ravishing of the central character's moist and ruby lips by a handsome trendy cool lover, always rich, of course. Wifey wondered why this genre always had loos that weren't leaking. Ah, this was the life, no football for a while.. Dave would return, sometime, whenever.

Dave bravely entered this mega store, determined this time to conquer all his home handyman demons here in this vast emporium of all things hardware, plus self-service checkouts, and mean looking receipt inspectors. "How hard can this be?' Davey asked himself, all he needed was one seal for his aging cistern. He could manage this, even if he defied his once chance meeting here with that dreaded, enigmatic figure, she who haunted this shopping complex. Surely the Hardware Fairy had forgotten him by now.

Davey courageously girded his beer belly in his unseasonably baggy shorts, and aimed to fulfil his quest for his grail, one correctly sized seal. He wandered from aisle to aisle, never quite knowing exactly where the toilet seals were waiting to be purchased. He was used to being bewildered, it did not take too long at all.

Futile, once again he was strolling, his middle-aged legs growing weary and disheartened. There was no human in a kindly grey coat to seek directions, only a digital display at one end of each row of multipackets of stuff. It was all lovely stuff, but not the right stuff.

Meanwhile, back at his ranch, his wifey had lunch, bit uncaring that Davey had gone missing, just like his forward line of those useless cellar dwellers he supported. The loo was still running, it was really getting on her wick. Wifey sat down, time for a good soapie on TV. No football equalled free time there in the old hacienda.

David was verging on sagging into the coffee shop, wondering why this mega shop of hardware horrors should have a bar in the far corner. Good Aussie cold beers and fetching bar maids would improve this retail experience. As if by magic, in a puff of logic, there appeared the Hardware Fairy. She stood at this side, glistening and suntanned in her designer black string bikini. Yes, she had returned, with her own motivations. She had never got over her secret desire to spend more time with Davey, to seek insights into this yearning she held for his booty, was this the real deal?

The Hardware Fairy also had a function here to be a personal shopping guide for all things hardware. "Dave, how lovely, you've come back at long last. Friendship hugs!" Dave was enfolded by her muscly arms, clutched by her strong embrace.

"Looking good, gal!" Dave was still impressed by the Hardware Fairy's washboard stomach and powerful thighs on full display. The Hardware Fairy beamed, "Body building is great. Maybe you could join me at the gym. Get fit for football!" Taking him by the semi-reluctant hand, she led him straight to the exact location of all toilet plumbing stuff. Lovely stuff, ah, there were the seals.

"What size do you need?' The Hardware Fairy was embracing optimism. Dave shuddered, all of a sudden. He had forgotten to check the size of the seal, let alone the make and model of his old-fashioned loo cistern. Exhaling, he texted his wife, as this hour of the day. This was a quest. A text came directed, with a photo of the offending cistern, largely small print, worth a squint.

"Dave, you may need to improvise. I stand here to support you in particular, while still celebrating all aspects of women. You are now in deep manure if you do not take home these 1000 piece multipackets of toilet seals. There are ten assorted different sizes in each one, surely one of them is the right size. Buy the lot. As an understanding, caring woman, I can advise you now that you shall be in the doghouse if that loo is not mended by tonight."

Davey could only agree. "My mates say I built my own kennel." He and the Hardware Fairy laughed. She took his hand, "Dave you need a bar and a beer. What else do you need here?" Dave took his chance, "Do you sell football goals? My team victories have gone missing too."

" I do understand here. Look, there is a secret bar and brothel here, discreetly hidden from the average shopper. Even has snacks for my hungry pals. "

Dave was more amazed, as there was indeed a publican, who had a large jug of beer, and a plate of hot, un-nutritious footy food. The Hardware Fairy wanted to lead her beloved trophy male astray, but first things first. Plumbing duties needed food.

Dave was munching his snacks, eagerly rehydrating with the best of traditional Aussie beverages, to hear his guardian mystique saying, "Dave, there is no such thing as a perfect marriage. I think you are hot. Nothing lasts forever, come this way."

Dave felt as if he had been drugged. Behind a red velvet curtain was a bed, with red satin sheets, gently lit by a scarlet lamp. Softly, tenderly, he was soon being kissed by the Hardware Fairy. But typically, Davey sank into snoring for rest easy. Yes, it looked like Dave could snore through anything. That is why women read about true romance. No need to navel-gaze.

So when the gone missing husband, that great Aussie home handyman awoke, he found there were some very irate texts from his wifey. In addition, placed kindly at this side, were some sparkling packages, labelled in translated ancient Swahili, "Goals and free kicks, no fee!' The card was sealed off with a kiss. Red lipstick.

Davey gathered his bundles of problem-solving, and texted wifey, "On the way home with what I need." By the time he arrived home, the house was filled with the scent of an oregano and garlic chicken casserole. The sunset had cleared away the rainy clouds. One seal for the leaking loo did nearly fit. All was peaceful and calm again. Dave had a funny thought that the Hardware Fairy may have done some wrong things for the right reason.

As Dave wandered off to bed, his wifey found that suspicious red lipstick note, but the wife must be obeyed. Dave had only been sleep walking round the hardware store again, straight to the bar on the corner. Nothing lasts forever, no such thing as a perfect male. Ask a gal!