PDA. Public displays of affection.
Wait for the rant to ensue… I am currently sitting in a coffee shop on Fleet Street. Enjoying my gingerbread latte, minding my own business and browsing my blog. It should be a pleasant way to spend my morning. But no. The voices around me are background murmurs, for sitting across from me are a couple who are kissing. The wet sound of their shared kisses come second after second after second. In the silence, I anticipate the next. The lady, is sprawled across the sofa, her right leg propped over his left. Again they kiss.
Now, I refuse to believe that my irritation is a result of my misery induced singledom, no. It’s just rude and gross. If I wanted to see this, I would watch soft porn. Nobody wants to witness this PDA as they enjoy a morning coffee and read their newspaper.
When I’ve been in relationships I’ve hated PDAs (I’m no hypocrite.) Holding hands is as public as it gets. I would never snog my other half’s face off in the same way that I wouldn’t have a blazing row in the street or I wouldn’t drop my knickers and go for a piss. Some things don’t need to be shared with every man and his dog. Kissing, fondling, doing whatever else, included.
I glare at the couple in the coffee shop. My look is lost on them, or atleast they choose not to see it. They only have eyes for one another.
Maybe, it’s unfair to say this, but I can only ever tolerate the old PDA when the offending couple are attractive. A balding male dressed in a greying fleece kissing his overweight girlfriend- is not a PDA that I appreciate.
I feel like Germaine Greer or some grumpy feminist, but it has to be said. If you’re a fifteen year old acne faced girl, I don’t want to see you sitting outside McDonalds kissing your very pierced greasy haired boyfriend. Yuk.
You may think that sitting in the corner of a coffee shop or that fumbling around under the table- makes you discreet and invisible, but it doesn’t. I can hear your very public affection in the form of your shared sloppy saliva and I can see your hand as it slips under his trousers.
The two of you may be very comfortable with one another; good for you. But watching you makes me very uncomfortable.
So, Please Don’t, Alright?