Defacto Romance

I feel as though I got married in my lunch hour. Sort of. We went and declared ourselves as each other's partners at the Australian Embassy. When I arrived there was no queue and I was given the impression that there wouldn't be for about half an hour so, stupidly, I went around the corner and sat on the steps of a monument to Gladstone and ate my packed lunch. When I came back, fifteen minutes later and still over thirty before the document verifying was due to start there were already two people there. I cursed my stupidity, curses my boyfriend added to when he arrived. We were both cross and distracted and fairly out of sorts.

I had to take a casting that started at 2pm and they opened up at 1.30pm. The first guy was in and out pretty quick. The second couple, complete with a wriggly child in a pushchair took much, much longer. At one point they came out of the office, at which we both jumped up, only to go back in again. 

Eventually we got in at about eight minutes to two. I was literally jumping up and down. I went in signed the form in front of the woman and ran leaving my boyfriend to sort everything else out. I arrived at the casting, (thank god for bicycles) just in time. 

What we declared in that extremely irritable, rushed moment was the closest I ever have/will get to marriage, perhaps. A scribbled signature and then literally running out of the door. No special outfit. No celebratory drink. No kiss.

And they say romance is dead. Perhaps it is? Or perhaps this is what romance is in 2011.

But I think perhaps, tonight, when I get back from acrobatics I will crack open a bottle of leftover prosecco and this weekend I will buy myself a new dress.