How we met Hugh Jackman.

Aussie men are dangerous.

Literally.

The streets of Kingsford, a suburb of Sydney.

We are crossing the street. The green man is not blinking, but we cross anyway. We are jaywalking. I scurry across, following closely behind Jeanne and Walt. Both are gliding toward the opposite end of the street.

Suddenly, I see in the distance, cars barreling down the street. Walt stops in the median. I stop in the median. Jeanne keeps gliding. Right into traffic.

"Jeanne! Jeanne!"

I see Jeanne turn around, a wide, unconscious grin on her face. I see a beautiful man with long hair flowing behind him in the wind, his white shirt glowing in the sun, him passing me, passing her. I see life in slow motion.

My instincts kick in, adrenaline rush and I reach out my hand to stop Jeanne from walking directly into oncoming cars. My mind flash forwards to a possible parallel future and I see Jeanne completely mowed down in the middle of the street by a barrage of cars. I see my best friend lying mangled in the streets of Kingsford. I see ambulance sirens, a stretcher, and our Aussie trip definitively cut short.

I imagine a long, twisted string of spider web shooting from my hands, wrapping around Jeanne and pulling her back, thrusting her in the opposite direction, out of harm's way. She flails her arms, windmilling wildly in the wind and falls backward, slamming upon the cement. Knocked out.

I am by her side. Walt and I crowd above her, anxious and waiting to see if she is okay. We try to revive her. The glowing, white-shirted man rushes over, concerned at this fallen red-haired beauty.

Jeanne finally comes to and finds herself staring up into the eyes of a strangely familiar face. It's Hugh Jackman.

"Hugh?" Jeanne says weakly.

And that is how we meet Hugh Jackman.

Okay, maybe that's not exactly what happened.

Spiderwebs did not shoot from my wrists. Hugh Jackman did not show up.

However.

Everything else pretty much happened.

In a moment of adrenaline and a fear of Jeanne's death that was most certainly seconds away from happening, I did panic and call out.

"Jeanne! Jeanne!"

And she turns around, grinning from ear to ear, clearly distracted by this man, completely oblivious that she was about to walk directly into the pathway of a dozen or so speeding cars.

Momentarily distracted myself at this man's hotness, I also hesitated. What am I doing?! My friend is about to die!

I snap back to reality and reach out to grab her.

Later in a local pub, over steak and fish and chips, Cokes and our first exposure to Australian football in a local pub, we laugh about the whole thing.

I laugh because all I remember is the way she turned around and the way she grinned. And I know exactly what she was looking at. I was looking, too.

And if we hadn't jaywalked, the view would have lasted longer.

Next time, we wait for the green blinking man.

Rule # 7: No more jaywalking.