I want this banana to land in the tree, and stay there forever – So bad. Awkwardly I launch the devoured remains of a banana skin skyward. It glides out of view and with a mighty slap it lands (as though impeccably rehearsed) on the ancient dead wood, much to the amazement of me and a good friend. Inspired, I want this figure in the distance riding toward our campsite to tragically collide with the mighty gum dictating the direction of the road at the side of our (incredibly now) tent. Adhering to my Lancelot inspired dream I would charismatically be there to aid my fallen beau, our eyes would meet and the rest as they say, would be history. We would move in to a 1999 constructed Yarraville town house together in just shy of a year, meet the families, add each as drivers on our insurance and eventually forget being known by one name. A few years in at the idea of wanting to be parents we will purchase a ‘its time to totally commit’ dog and in about 6 years over two months painfully bid farewell to our true love that just ‘couldn’t’ be. As the balding, shirtless (most outdated) camper from 4 sites down becomes clearer and rides past wishing us a great day, relationship miss number 21 for the day, 78 all tolled for my long-Easter weekend away. I turn to my new point of focus banana to see that with a simple fluke throw of my arm I landed an old, wrinkling banana skin a big old tree to hold at night. I wonder, when is a totally unforeseen, calamity of events going to slap me to the side of an Audi driving, 6 foot 4, dark, culturally aligned man? Could it be that I will have to wait until I am a darker shade of yellow, completely amiss of any insides and emanating a pungent odor? That reminds me - is my ex is still single?