I have a regular column at SheSaid where I talk about dating, relationships, sex and single life. My latest article talks about PDA is for the bedroom, not the middle of a restaurant…
I recently snagged a reservation at a trendy new restaurant that was written up as the hottest place to dine. It was the kind of establishment where the tables are too close together and you need to use the light of your phone to read the menu, so naturally, it was touted as the perfect date venue.
The likelihood of being sandwiched between a Tinder date was high and unfortunately for my friend and I, we were seated next to a couple who insisted on feeding each other and alternating each bite with a lengthy oral hygiene exam… all whilst she sat on his lap. I guess that’s one way to ask your partner how the food tastes? It was a PDA overload that I even felt like I was part of. (PDA, or Public Display of Affection for my formal folk, is the act of – often graphic – physical intimacy in full view of others).
The close proximity of the tables made my friend and I feel like we were part of this bad porno taking place and I couldn’t help but worry about the probability of body fluids splashing in my pasta. The whole situation was way too intimate for public eyes and we left feeling as though we had dinner and a show.
So where is the line between what should remain between the sheets and what is PG-rated enough to be fine for the streets?
I’d call myself an affectionate person, and I’m very pro-sex, but I’ve never felt comfortable enough with a partner to shove my tongue down their throat whilst we’re in line to buy groceries. A discreet crotch rub under the table with my foot, yes. But furiously rubbing his boner as people watch? That’s a definite no.
I look back to when I was younger and I’d sit holding hands with my boyfriend at the time with lips so raw and swollen from hours of kissing. We were in that teenage love bubble where we lost all perception of our surroundings. Buildings could have been falling down around us, but the only thing occupying our minds was exchanging saliva. I didn’t really care about pissing off other people around me; yet as I’ve matured, I’ve become a lot more discerning with the amount of affection I want to show my partner in public.
If I want to get hot and heavy, it’s probably time we venture home and have each other for dessert, instead of starting our foreplay in the restaurant. The people around us don’t need to know we’re sexually active together, so I don’t feel the need for public exhibitionism to proclaim to everyone around us that we’re most definitely going to be doing the deed directly after we leave the dining table.
Read the rest of the article at SheSaid.com…
Photography by Alex Jack.