REALITY TV has long been accused of being scripted but The Bachelor Nick Cummins has literally penned his pick-up tricks – revealing just how he wooed his longest lasting love.
The former Wallabies star, writing under his nickname, the Honey Badger, claimed to have propositioned his ex-girlfriend, Norwegian painter, Martine Strom Thomassen in the fruit and vegies section at his local Woolworths supermarket.
The ‘cute-meet’ (a Hollywood term which refers to the way a couple are introduced on screen) saw Cummins describe Thomassen as a “Viking beauty … who had all the credentials necessary for the job” as a his girlfriend: “beautiful big … eyes, plump and ripe … cheeks, a perfect perky … smile and a good rig to boot.”
Despite being overwhelmed with nerves, his pick-up approach — as he wrote in Harper Collins’ The Tales Of A Honey Badger — was composed; walking “with purpose and precision, emanating a calm, confident, non-plussed approach to the task.”
While he claimed to be in control, he suggests she was less assured – spilling a pile of oranges and falling to the floor.
The Honey Badger pounced.
“As she went arse over head, I dived in to catch her like a footy from going into touch and put in a brilliant turn of phrase: ‘You’ve fallen for me already.’”
It’s a different version of events than the story he told media in 2015, when the couple first went public with their quirky relationship – with Cummins claiming to have been introduced to Thomassen through his brother Nathan, while he living in Perth and playing for the now defunct, Western Force rugby team.
The couple dated for six years, before breaking up 18 months before Cummins signed up to Channel 10’s returning season of the dating franchise.
Cummins told TV GUIDE he was approached to appear on other love search TV series but knocked them back because he didn’t feel ready to move on from Thomassen.
“As time goes on, your mind has time to process it and yeah, ‘you know what, I’m over it, I’m healed, let’s go.”
He warned the stunning 28-year-old of his Bachelor commitment, ahead of it airing from Wednesday on Ten.
“Yeah I did [warn her] but she’s awesome. We’re good friends and I don’t want to drag her into anything she doesn’t need to be involved in.”
‘THE IDEAL DATE’, from TALES FROM THE HONEY BADGER
LIKE any wild animal, the honey badger is on the constant look-out for a mate – of the sexual variety, that is.
And unlike penguins, most are anything but monogamous. I must be the exception to the rule. Because one thing’s for sure, this honey badger’s mating ritual is a thing of legend.
See, it was a few years back when I legged it into the local Woolies on a Sunday arvo in
search of the perfect roasted chicken for dinner – you know the ones, the chooks that have
been in the heating bay since 6 am and are drier than The Caxton after Origin. But little did I
know that I’d find the perfect chick – of the human variety, that is.
There she was, in the produce section – a glow of energy beaming out to the beat of her
This Viking beauty – or Scandinavian for the PC crowd – had all the credentials
necessary for the job – beautiful big… eyes, plump and ripe… cheeks, a perfect perky… smile and a good rig to boot.
The world stopped. Warrant’s ‘Cherry Pie’ blasted from the imaginary speakers.
My mind instantly became alive with transient beams of thought cascading toward her like a cosmic river of creation. I knew I had to propose a first date. The only question was how?
Honey Badger Mating 101 suggests a scrap with another male or two before physically
dominating the much smaller female.
But like I said, I’m the exception to the rule so I waited for the perfect opportunity.
I surveyed this mystic beauty as she gracefully patrolled the produce section, selecting only the healthiest and most vibrant fruit and veg.
And instead of launching like a fat kid on a cupcake, I walked with purpose and precision, emanating a calm, confident, nonplussed approach to the task.
And right before I introduced myself, God herself reached down and parted the peaches and pears, my dreamboat knocking over the oranges and sending them cascading to the floor.
She did her best to stop them from hitting the ground but in the process lost her footing!
As she went arse over head, I dived in to catch her like a footy from going into touch and put in a brilliant turn of phrase: ‘You’ve fallen for me already.’
Well, suffice to say, she appreciated the chat and put on the kind of smile you’d see in a
romantic comedy. And she loved it.
So I told her I’d take her out for a Bruce Reid and she replied ‘When?’
It was the first time I’d heard her speak and after hearing that Scando accent it was like a deaf kid hearing music for the first time – I was ecstatic. ‘You ripper!’
On a roll, I said ‘Why not right now?’ And sure enough, we both saddled up in the Bulldog (blue Holden Rodeo single cab tray back and my first car) and I drive her to a ‘secret’ secluded beach.
I then proceeded to grab my ‘special’ basket, rip off the thongs and escort her down to the
beach, the sand gently bonding the gaps between our toes as our spiritual connection did
I had her just where I wanted her – on the rug as I started a fire from friction (see
Aboriginal tech) and then pulled out a bottle of the best red the bottom shelf of the local
liquor store had to offer.
For five minutes I waxed lyrical about the prestige of the said Queen Adelaide cab-sav and explained to her how you can’t buy it anymore – it was roughly the same amount of time it took for me to remove the $3.99 price sticker from the back of it.
I filled her glass with the 2014 classic, fresh off the press, then headed to the water with my
spear in hand.
As fate would have it, I speared a fish in record time and before she could Viber her oldies to let ’em know she’d found paradise with the Badge, I had the fish cleaned and gutted and roasting on the fire.
And if you think she was impressed then, you should see her face when she tasted the big bastard – she nearly slid off the rug!
Suffice to say, she made it clear it was the best date she’d ever been on.
And long story short, not wanting to spoil the night and out of respect for her, we shook the sand out of our hair like nothing else.
Hey, I didn’t want her to think I was a tease … nah, jokes.
I was nothing short of a country gentleman and dropped her home to keep the experience
beautiful and restore her faith in the male population.
Like any good fisherman, I released her back into the wild to live another day … or did I?
That’s private, ya bastards!