The Art of the PDA: You Can Make-Out in a Bar…
But you can’t get busy in a department store. Unless, perhaps, you know the other party intimately — or are GETTING to know them that way, with their permission, of course. It’s a fine line, you might say.
Anyway, a thought crossed my mind the other night, and I did what I always do when I need some time alone:
I shared it with my wife, who promptly shook her head and wandered off.
I got to thinking about bars, and how it’s almost completely acceptable to make out in them… not to mention the correlation of S,B x HF=OK (where SB= “Seediness of Bar”, HF=”Hotness Factor” of persons involved — note multiple, as one person making out gets, well, kinda f**king weird (see “Palm Pilots” below) — and OK=well, Okey-Doky-ness amongst other patrons of said bar.) Consider that the grungier the bar, the more face-sucking potential people have. Of course, I have taken into consideration such variables as LF (or “Lateness Factor”), BG (“Beer Goggle Factor”, which, in most cases, is directly dependent on LF), and of course, DL (or “Desperation Level”), but wanted to keep this simple.
My main concern is that, while accepted in bars (and airplane restrooms), for the most part, you’re limited to places that you can “get busy”, as the kids say, without fear of reprimand, the stink eye, or arrest. I mean, in a bar, you may expect one or two couples (and again, maybe the one loner) leaning against the bar (or rubbing for you loners), and enjoying one another’s company… fillings, piercings, halitosis, whatever. Try that while waiting for your burger at the fast-food place. Reaction is often quite different… (next week we’ll cover “prop usage in PDA situations for fun and profit”, wherein we’ll present the transcription of my recent Ivy League dissertation on “Originality in Public Lovemaking For Fun, Profit, and a Film Career on the Internet”) I’m assuming the family behind you may frown on this, and complain. Place that same family in a bar, and, well, someone’s probably losing a liquor license, but your making out session will gain higher approval.
Wander into the local tavern, have a few drinks, play some darts, meet a cutie, and make out a bit. You’re a hero.
Wander into IKEA, and eat a traditional Swedish breakfast, look at some furniture, meet a cutie, and bed her down in a tastefully decorated room right out of post-apocalyptic (future, Blade Runner-style version) Germany, where everyone graduates from the Bahaus and is uber-stylish and budget-conscious. You do not get to read the instructions and assemble furniture. Instead, you get to make license plates or pick up roadside trash. It’s opposing ends of the spectrum to be certain.
Granted, there’s more to life (and making out) than IKEA and bars. There are plenty of places that PDA’s (those would be Public Displays of Affection, versus Palm Pilots and what have you… and don’t even get me started –pardon the pun– on “palm” anything with regard to making out… that, my gentle reader, is a whole other topic for another time and place. I could count the reasons for not going into that now on one hand. Oh, they write themselves sometimes) would be unacceptable… Come to think of it, even levels of affection have limits, publicly… and for good reason… the above-mentioned mathematical formulas notwithstanding.
Consider a drunken company Christmas party. There are lines to be drawn there… but I’d bet that many a make-out session have occurred there. A seance. Concerts. Buses. Dark alleys. Parked cars. Alien spacecraft (I’m betting that many of those sessions don’t begin or end well). During the sign of peace at Church. Movie theaters. Burning man. All (or any) of those may or may not be proper (or improper) places to engage in such activities.
In summary, I suppose that’s what growing up is really all about: Knowing what to do and where.
And understanding math.