Last week, I found myself in a very horny situation of my own making — and I was pretty chuffed with myself.

In fact, it flipped the script for me when it comes to dating.

Have you ever looked across a bar at a hot guy and thought, “God, I would like to make out with that man”? (I’ve just given you the PG version of what we’re really thinking.) Sometimes, we summon the courage to flutter our lashes and hope for the best, but — let’s be honest — as women, we’ve been brought up to believe that men must always make the first move.

It just so happened that I was at the opening night of a fancy New York bar last Friday — more specifically, an Aussie pub called Old Mate’s in Lower Manhattan.

So off I popped, hoping to find myself a sexy Hemsworth brother, a Hugh Jackman, or heck, even a Russell Crowe for the night. (Just thinking of that “Gladiator” actor saying in his deep Aussie accent, “My name is Maximus Decimus Meridius, commander of the Armies of the North, General of the Felix Legions and loyal servant to the true emperor, Marcus Aurelius” … simply gets me hot under the collar.)

So, happily, I was met with an outrageous number of hot Aussie guys, all packed into a pub that exceeded my expectations. It wasn’t a tacky steakhouse with over-the-top Aussie paraphernalia. Instead, it offered fine red wines, views overlooking the Seaport and Brooklyn Bridge and a soundtrack of INXS hits.

But, most importantly, it was serving big, alpha, Aussie men.

When I spotted a guy wearing an outrageous Australian flag onesie, I did a doubletake. He looked slightly absurd but, reader, he was so hot. Tall, with broad shoulders, cheeky blue eyes and a grin that lit up the room.

He was giving “rugby player” vibes. And, oh God — I was hooked.

Normally, I would have just admired him from afar. But that night I was feeling brave, and it was time to toss out the ridiculous dating rule book.

With all the audacity I could muster, I casually walked up to him, leaned in and delivered the unofficial Aussie mating call: “Aussie, Aussie, Aussie!”

Before I could second-guess myself, he fired back with a hearty, “Oi, Oi, Oi!”

Yes, cringe-worthy — I know — but it did its job, breaking the ice. In that moment, I shattered every outdated rule dictating that women should always wait for the man to make the first move.

TikTok, podcasts and dating gurus all chant that if we just “sit in our femininity,” don our cutest dresses, refrain from using profanity and laugh at his corny jokes, we’ll have more luck snagging a man.

Well, to that I say: Boring. Snore. And why? 

Plus, it just doesn’t work. The number of times I’ve left a bar thinking of all the wasted opportunities because I had to “sit in my femininity” could drive even the sanest woman up the wall.

So, that night, I decided to toss that tired script right out the window and just go for it.

One cheeky line led to another, and before I knew it, we were on like Donkey Kong! We spent the rest of the night taste-testing the wines and flirting in every corner of the three-story pub. We got on so well that both our friend groups left us.

It wasn’t until the bartender called “last drinks” that we decided our night — and our flirting — was far from over.

We jumped in a cab and made our way across town to the nearest dive bar to keep the good vibes going — and they did, dear reader, they did.

Right up until the next morning. Wink, wink.

It was one of those nights that reaffirmed my belief: sometimes, a bit of quirky, fearless fun is exactly what you need to get your dating mojo back.

Someone asked me a question recently while I was debating whether to text a guy I liked: “Would your 80-year-old self care whether you sent that text or not?” And it hit me — no, she jolly well wouldn’t.

In fact, she’d probably be pretty chuffed by my bravado. Even if he didn’t text back, in the long run, who cares? My 80-year-old self certainly wouldn’t be bothered.

So why aren’t we being a little bolder with our dating moves?

I’ve now decided to make it my modus operandi to toss aside society’s tired prescription that women must “sit in our femininity” and wait for an alpha to make his move. Be gone, tradwife TikTokkers — be gone!

In my world, audacity is not just welcomed, it’s celebrated. Every time I take the initiative, I’m met with a chorus of supportive cheers from my equally rebellious friends, and I’ll be honest: I haven’t had a complaint from the men either. 

They know that in a culture still steeped in misogyny and outdated dating scripts, these little acts of defiance aren’t just liberating — they’re (kind of annoyingly) revolutionary.

There’s a palpable shift these days -— a surge of misogyny-breaking bravery — as women across the board choose to own their desires, flirt outrageously and rewrite the narrative. We’re swapping timid glances for bold declarations, replacing “nice girls” with women who know exactly what they want and aren’t afraid to go after it.

Not to sound basic, but Samantha from “Sex and the City” was really onto something.

So this isn’t just a one-off escapade; it’s a movement. A cheeky revolution, one audacious pickup line at a time.

And I have to say: my friends — and, frankly, the current cultural climate of kick-ass women — support it wholeheartedly.

Here’s to shaking up the status quo, mixing a dash of pop culture with unapologetic romance, and proving that sometimes, the best way to break free is simply to say, “Oi, Oi, Oi!”