Love Underground

It looks like public displays of affection (slurpy and beyond) have seeped their way into every subway car in New York City, leaving us powerless and vomit-ready. No matter what we say, these neckers and slurpy kissy-noise makers are pretty dedicated to their craft. “Hey guys, what’s up? How’s it going…Whatever-whatever – Let’s*LOVE!*”

So. Uh. Do we… *tell* them it’s not cute or do we just… fake it?

‘Cause, I mean, we’re all trying to work together, here, right? Trying to make these 10 to 13 minutes livable, and maybe – I dunno – a better place. Maybe? Well, whether you’re into saving the world or not, the friggin’ PDA’s are hhhnnngross, and it’s gotten worse now that they’ve taken their business underground.

As a subway rider/audience member: It’s HARD being in a confined space when almost-sex happens everywhere. And you can only imagine they’re two cats fighting over cheese-yarn for so long. Short of clutching your stomach so it doesn’t fall out of you, there’s really nothing you can do. And joining in to show ’em what GOOD kissing actually is isn’t a great idea, either, (’cause you don’t know where those faces’ve been.) The only thing you can hope for is to find some inner serenity or bliss, and hope that the incredibly LOUD, screaming baby shows ‘em a thing or two.

But it’s not fair to knock the Subway Slurpers, you guys – they don’t mean any harm. I mean, it’s hard to keep love alive during ever possible second of the day. And without us, they’d be forced to actually bond – on their own – and explore intimacy on all levels. Anyone who’s in the way of THAT happening is just being a bad sport.

So, if you DO end up barfing out your insides entirely, then so be it. But never forget: Love (in transit) will ALWAYS fall into your lap when you least expect it.

Thanks for stopping by!
-Anoush

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