Save it for the bedroom

I am a PDA (Public Display of Affection) hater. This discovery was made on a recent shopping trip to Morrisons. I was minding my own business, forcing my mum to buy me all of the luxuries that I wouldn’t be able to afford once I was back in Manchester. There, by the raw beef, chicken and pork, was a couple indulging in what can only be described as heavy petting. Who knew that your Sunday roast contained a powerful aphrodisiac?

Now, don’t get me wrong, I have nothing bad to say about casual hand holding or a quick peck on the lips. PDAs of the discreet variety, such as these, are perfectly acceptable. Full frontal tonsil tennis on the other hand, takes it too far. Just for the record, I am not a bitter singleton. In fact, most of the time and to the surprise of many, I actually quite like being single. Some things simply need to be saved for the bedroom (or wherever else takes your fancy – bathroom, kitchen, stairs, garden shed – just so long as it is in the privacy of your own home).

Worse still is the online PDA. I usually find myself ranting about men, but this time the offending sex is my own. To quote but a few of the most irritating and frankly nauseating Facebook statuses this week: ‘my boyf is amazing’ (the use of the abbreviation ‘boyf’ is a criminal offence in itself), ‘missing snuggles with my man’, ‘I hate goodbyes, had a perfect summer with my gorgeous guy’. Someone pass me a sick bucket! Do these girls have no shame?

It gets even better in the last girl’s ‘About Me’ section: ‘Tom . . .’ (that’s her ‘gorgeous guy’) ‘. . . you are the jam on my toast’. Much to my horror, she even uses the pokey tongue face smiley – ‘:P’. More cheese, anyone? I can now completely understand why most guys are under the impression that we women are incapable of having sex without falling madly in love and planning marriage and children. I’m sure Tom is secretly quite pleased about being the jam on his girlfriend’s toast, but does everybody need to know? Wouldn’t it have been better if she had text him this instead of plastering it all over a social networking site? It can’t be doing his reputation with the lads any good, that’s for sure.

I am dreading Valentine’s Day 2013; I know my newsfeed will be choc-a-block with photos of flowers, chocolates, cards, teddy bears, Pandora bracelets and Swarovski crystal rings. Said photos will of course be complete with captions such as ‘OMG best boyfriend’, ‘I am such a lucky girl’ or ‘Been spoilt rotten, thanks babe. Love you so much’. It hasn’t even happened yet and I am already feeling angered by it.

When I spoke to my mum about this new found hatred I have for the PDA, she told me that I would probably turn into one of these dreadful lovey dovey human beings once I met the right man. Naturally, I turned my nose up in disgust at such an idea and denied that I could ever be so utterly ridiculous. So, if I do meet the right man (and that’s a very big if) and you happen to catch me making sweet love in the pasta aisle of Sainsbury’s Fallowfield, please feel free to shout “hypocrite!” and give me a bloody good slap.