On PDA and that uneasy feeling.

2

April 26, 2017 by hallyrh

It has become a commonplace happening in life to see impassioned young (and occasionally old) couples engaging in blatant displays of ardor for each other; or, layman’s term, PDA.

Exhibit A: I went for a short run at the QC City Circle yesterday. After about 30 minutes of jogging, I sat down for a bit and decided to take hipster time lapse photos of leaves swirling in the wind (lels). As I was panning my phone across the landscape, it caught what supposedly was a private moment between two young lovers — ironically in such an open, public place.

Young man had his head on young woman’s lap, and young woman was leaning over and kissing young man full on the lips, her short hair doing very little to curtain their little “private” session.

(I cancelled the video, teeth clenched.)

The table across from theirs was no better. Exhibit B: A young couple sitting so close together, the young woman might as well have been sitting on the young man’s lap. They were cuddling and whispering and wearing matching hoodies in scorching, 38-degree Manila weather. (Sigh.)

Feeling very much like a creepy, intruding weirdo, I literally up and ran. But as I was about to complete the lap, my eyes caught movement behind a tree, and of course there was yet another couple behind said tree, locked so passionately in an embrace they looked like they were trying to wrestle each other (or were they? Haha!).

And do not even get me started on the amount of PDA I have encountered as a commuter in Manila. I believe all of us have felt uncomfortable at one point in our lives sitting in an enclosed, moving vehicle with couples nipping at each other or smooching or smelling each other’s 12-hour’s worth of sweat and grime.

I think it’s swell that they express themselves so freely — I mean I admire people who wear their hearts on their sleeves — but not all of us enjoy feeling like we’re in a videoke MTV.

People might think I’m being bitter about this, and I would think the same, except for the fact that even people in relationships feel awkward when thrust in the middle of a heavy PDA situation.

To couples who are deeply, irrevocably, stars-in-eyes-forever-honeymoon-mode in love and just could not get enough of each other: will you please dial it down, guys? Learn to read body language — and for godssake, not each other’s. I mean other people’s body language. As in the people who are discreetly trying to clear their throats while you guys are playfully biting each other in the PUV; as in the people whose necks have gone stiff staring out the window while you guys are giggling and trying to tickle each other; as in the people who have their music in full blast to cancel out your baby-talking; as in the people who are pretending to scroll down their newsfeed even with their crappy Free Facebook mode just to have something to do rather than watch you snuggle like we’re not having heat stroke warnings on the news.

As in — respect. Right? I mean while all of us would appreciate the occasional, cute displays of young love, too much of it can literally make people want to light themselves on fire. Haha. Kudos to their colorful love lives and everything, but some things are best kept in private.

Also, I’m a spinster-in-training so this kind of lecture is expected from me. Lels. But I was actually inspired to make this after my friend complained to me via chat some few nights ago about the discomfort of having to travel for an hour to an hour and a half in a PUV with two young students in their very own and very public love bubble.

Sign us up for Titas of Manila. Haha.

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2 thoughts on “On PDA and that uneasy feeling.

  1. Ira says:

    There seem to be an influx of the hoodie species. You see them everywhere all covered up in the sweltering heat. šŸ˜§
    I hate PDA too and because Iā€™m an asshole I stare longer until they feel uneasy. šŸ˜… Oh, (most often times) young love.

    • hallyrh says:

      Haha that’s pretty gutsy of you. I couldn’t stand looking at overly PDA-ing couples for more than a few seconds. Must be the old maid in me. šŸ˜‚

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