Dear Couple Sitting in Front of Me on the Train,
Let me start by saying that I believe that love, in all its forms, is an inherently beautiful thing. I believe that it is an important thing in a human's life to find someone who understands their neurosis, but beyond that, someone who actually enjoys it. It's wonderful to think there are people out there who want nothing more than to make you happy.
But that's not what this is about.
This is about your cutesy/lovey/nuzzling games that you played for 13 stops - aka 24 minutes.
First of all, yes, I said it's great to have someone who understands you, but that someone should also understand that you both look like complete and utter assholes. I'm fine with having your arm around someone, but you (girl, who I'm now naming Megan) actually took the initiative to sit up straight, turn toward guy (who I'm naming Kyle), and properly give him a legitimate hug on an extremely crowded 1:30 A.M. train.
My initial reaction was "Oh, Megan's evidently getting off the train, at least they're not making out to say goodbye."
Wrong. She stayed on.
And then things got worse.
Megan, you started playing the "I'm mad at you" game for the simple fact that you wanted attention. You knew full well that the only way this game could possibly end is if Kyle simply ignored you or if he was forced to show you retarded amounts of attention. You also evidently knew that he would be a pussy and show you said affection. Watching his face nuzzle into your unattractive neck was not what I - nor the 38 other people in that particular car - needed to see.
And then things got worse.
Megan, I don't know what the hell you did, but when you inadvertently bumped a tender spot on Kyle's body, I cringed. I'm not sure what body-part it was, as my eyes were mostly closed at this point, but it better have been a giant open sore on his abdomen (or something life-threatening, as that would earn a free-pass for PDA; Positively Disturbing Affection). I perked up at the thought of physical pain being injected into your otherwise impeccable relationship.
Kyle, you were rightfully upset. Megan, you were rightfully apologetic. However, you couldn't have handled it worse. The faces into necks, the baby talk, and then the last straw: Megan, I don't care what the circumstances are, if you're outside of the privacy of your/his home, do not ever utter the phrase "I'm gonna nibble your ear." There is no public situation that makes this OK. The only way I can come up with is if it's clearly a joke with someone who will be made extremely uncomfortable by the suggestion. Aside from that, no.
Oh, and as if it wasn't unnerving enough to hear you say that, you actually did it.
Twice.
You sick bastards.
Kyle, if you're read this, I want you to take your testicles in your hand, bite down on a rag real hard, and chop those things off. You won't be needing them. Your douche-y haircut can go too.
Sincerely,
EVERYONE WHO HAD TO SEE YOU.
PS, you're not special. You're not cute. And I hate you.
Let me start by saying that I believe that love, in all its forms, is an inherently beautiful thing. I believe that it is an important thing in a human's life to find someone who understands their neurosis, but beyond that, someone who actually enjoys it. It's wonderful to think there are people out there who want nothing more than to make you happy.
But that's not what this is about.
This is about your cutesy/lovey/nuzzling games that you played for 13 stops - aka 24 minutes.
First of all, yes, I said it's great to have someone who understands you, but that someone should also understand that you both look like complete and utter assholes. I'm fine with having your arm around someone, but you (girl, who I'm now naming Megan) actually took the initiative to sit up straight, turn toward guy (who I'm naming Kyle), and properly give him a legitimate hug on an extremely crowded 1:30 A.M. train.
My initial reaction was "Oh, Megan's evidently getting off the train, at least they're not making out to say goodbye."
Wrong. She stayed on.
And then things got worse.
Megan, you started playing the "I'm mad at you" game for the simple fact that you wanted attention. You knew full well that the only way this game could possibly end is if Kyle simply ignored you or if he was forced to show you retarded amounts of attention. You also evidently knew that he would be a pussy and show you said affection. Watching his face nuzzle into your unattractive neck was not what I - nor the 38 other people in that particular car - needed to see.
And then things got worse.
Megan, I don't know what the hell you did, but when you inadvertently bumped a tender spot on Kyle's body, I cringed. I'm not sure what body-part it was, as my eyes were mostly closed at this point, but it better have been a giant open sore on his abdomen (or something life-threatening, as that would earn a free-pass for PDA; Positively Disturbing Affection). I perked up at the thought of physical pain being injected into your otherwise impeccable relationship.
Kyle, you were rightfully upset. Megan, you were rightfully apologetic. However, you couldn't have handled it worse. The faces into necks, the baby talk, and then the last straw: Megan, I don't care what the circumstances are, if you're outside of the privacy of your/his home, do not ever utter the phrase "I'm gonna nibble your ear." There is no public situation that makes this OK. The only way I can come up with is if it's clearly a joke with someone who will be made extremely uncomfortable by the suggestion. Aside from that, no.
Oh, and as if it wasn't unnerving enough to hear you say that, you actually did it.
Twice.
You sick bastards.
Kyle, if you're read this, I want you to take your testicles in your hand, bite down on a rag real hard, and chop those things off. You won't be needing them. Your douche-y haircut can go too.
Sincerely,
EVERYONE WHO HAD TO SEE YOU.
PS, you're not special. You're not cute. And I hate you.
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