I’m talking about the ones who Just. Can’t. Keep. Their. Hands. Off. Each. Other. Even in church. PDAs (public displays of affection) in the pews.
As I write my eyes are still burning from a particularly unpleasant morning at church over the weekend in which I was stuck behind not one but two puke-inducingly amorous couples.
Yours truly was just trying to have a little time with God, you know? I’d entered His gates with thanksgiving in my heart, skipped into His courts with praise and taken my place in the pew ready to ‘engage’.
Sadly for me, two couples shuffled into the seats in front of me, their arms intertwined with their other halves; stroking and gazing and whispering and snuggling and nuzzling.
And then – heartbreak of heartbreaks, pain of pains – one of the women had to endure half an hour without her beau as he rose to his feet, forlorn, and left her to go and take his place in the worship band (bass player, obviously).
She looked bereft as she faced a full 30 minutes sans hubby, but waved the odd hand in the air at the appropriate points in worship to show that she could cope without him, having to settle for the presence of God rather than the warm, strong arms of her beloved.
The other couple – thank God – did not have to go through the pain of such separation and stood the whole way through worship holding hands; giving each other a lingering, sloppy kiss whenever there was a pause when the band changed song.
My eyes!
Absence obviously makes the heart grow fonder. Because when Loved-up Bass Player returned to take his seat by his missus, she greeted him with all the affection of an army wife whose brave soldier had returned from war; or, maybe more aptly, with all the adoration of the wife of a rock star who had returned from a world tour.
When the sermon started, these two couples really turned up the heat– I’d say to at least a 12 rating. Think of the children!, I cried (internally). Their innocence was being taken from them by being forced to watch these Pew PDAs before their parents had had a chance to tell them about the birds and the bees.
All that giggling and slurping and bottom-pinching and all those intense looks of love; all the while with me craning to try and look over them to work out what the minister was talking about.
Now, I hate to sound like the bitter singleton. But, pah-lease, if you’re a young, married couple realise the rest of the congregation do not need evidence that you really are truly in love. We believe you. GET A ROOM. Don’t flaunt your love in the house of the Lord.
Here endeth the lesson.