I appreciate that every second not touching your partner is a wasted one, but there is a time and a place and the tube, bus, train or plane is not one of them. Whilst we are all thrilled that you are both so very enamoured by each other’s company- the rest of us sharing the small confines of public transport with you, funnily enough don’t quite harbour the same mutual feelings.

 

Whilst normally one to let this kind of thing slide, I had a most unfortunate experience on my 2 hour train to London, that has made me think otherwise. On spying a spare seat at a 4 person table on an extremely packed train, you would not be able to comprehend my smugness. However, I will inform you that this smugness was fleeting as it dawned on me rather quickly just why this seat was so available. It became clear that the pair in front of me should not have reserved seats, but should have enquired if there was a carriage that had an actual bed.

However, as their forward planning had sadly not factored this in, they decided to make do with the table – where the three of us sat. Whilst some may reason I could have looked elsewhere, I would like to remind you just how close you are to those seated opposite to you at those 4 man tables. Close. You are very close.

 

You cannot help but find the continuous giggling, touching and general slurping noises as the pair in front of you quite literally suck face, distracting. It only becomes more awkward when said couple are playing footsie and somehow mistake your foot (being my foot) as the one of their betrothed and you suddenly find you (being me) are apologising (a typical British flaw).

 

I reason with myself that they will get bored soon but it becomes apparent that they won’t. If anything now I have issued my apology for innocent involvement in footsie, I have essentially given them a green light to go to town on each other. I plug my music in.

The escapades continue. There is a young family of 4 sat at the table next to us. The young children make appropriate sick noises and I nod my approval. They are also not enjoying the view too much. I mean, for the love of God there is a toilet on this train-they could utilize some of the private resources that this train does have.

However, as I take in my surroundings and see that I am very much wedged between this family and the gruesome twosome, I am hit with just how single I am. This is the sum of my life right now. This is life. My life.Oh God.

Are they really disgusting or am I just bitter? I look up.

Nope, not bitter they are just disgusting.

I think of all the times, myself and the general public have had to put up with over amorous lovers. First thing in the morning on the tube is just as bad. Once again, everyone tries to look everywhere but at the couple, which once again proves hard as they choose to plant themselves smack in the middle of the tube. Are these PDA monsters not aware of the mass eye rolling, head shaking and general looks of unpleasantness? Alas, I think not.

The only saving grace perhaps are planes. What with all the hype of being in the Mile High Club, you can be rest assured that there will be moments of serenity as they leave their seats, in a bid to make it in there.

So to conclude, is PDA necessary on public transport? In full. No.

By C. Moncrieff

If you enjoyed that, check out more of Char’s posts at Twenty Mile Club