My bestie CY invited me to a cheese and wine event hosted by the restaurant Artisanal last Thursday evening.
The event itself was pretty fricking awesome –I highly recommend it.
For $75, you get a plate of delicious cheese, and four different types of wines to match with each cheese.
The kicker is that the wine is NEVER ENDING!
Everyone started off with the prerequisite four glasses – including myself.
This was my wine glass collection by the end of the 90 minute class:
Needless to say, the night turned out to be so redonkulously epic that I had to take myself home at 3am – even though I really wanted to stay out and party longer.
Anyways – that’s not the topic of today’s post. What also happened at the wine and cheese event is that CY and I sat behind this loving couple, who started the class being two normal people.
However, as class and wine consumption progressed, I noticed that they became increasingly huggy bunny – a hand on the thigh became adorable head touching – see below.
Head touching became head on shoulder, became putting arms around each other and became FULL BLOWN MAKING OUT SESSION. CY was sure she even saw tongue. Now – I’m all for love, but everything has a time and a place, and full-blown expression of PDA is NOT suitable during a 90 minute cheese educational class. Towards the end of the class, CY and I both had enough and decided to make an early escape – had we stayed a little longer, I would have put money on the fact that she would have beavered underneath the table and sucked his cock.
This takes me onto today’s post – PDA, or Public Displays of Affection. Anyone who knows me well is fully aware that romantic gestures are totally not my thing. While I absolutely adore Husband, we rarely engage in any forms of PDA, the most you’ll get from me is generally some sort of hand-holding before we both realize that we suffer from sweaty hands syndrome.
The only time I will be publicly loving towards Husband is when I’m drunk – case in point:
- After about 5 dirty martinis, I literally straddled Husband on the couch at Thom Bar and made out with him. I am all class.
- In Philly one year, after 4-5 hours of consistent vodka consumption, I gave Husband a lap dance at a table at the club. To this day, he has no recollection of this happening. Thanks buddy.
But we all know that anything I do while I’m intoxicated I cannot be held accountable for, so these instances don’t count.
I often wonder where this lack of romance comes from – it all became clear one day when I was visiting my Ma back in Sydney:
Ma: Did I see you hold boy hand before?
Me: Huh? Oh maybe, I don’t know. It wasn’t intentional.
Ma: You one of those people who hold hand with boy all the time? And kiss on the street?
Me: Good god no. Not in public!
Ma: Okay good. I know you no be like that. There only one time I hold you dad hand.
Me: WHAT? I’ve NEVER seen you hold dad’s hand!
Ma: Only one time is okay – I only hold dad hand when we are crossing street and I have very high heel on – I hold he hand so I no fall. After that, I no hold his hand anymore.
Me: You’re smart ma. Verrry smart.
PDA – don’t do it unless you’re wearing fuck-off heels.
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