P.D.A: Please, Die Already

Why is it that I always bump into non-Brad Pitts and Un-gelina Jolies lock-lipping at the farthest and darkest corner of the cinema?

The reason why I went by myself to the farthest, darkest corner of the cinema on a gloomy Friday is not the issue here, Virginia, but the trauma of seeing the ghastly image of two of the most unattractive beings devouring each other inside the moviehouse.
Kuya, who was wearing a white sando top, military fatigue shorts and matching netted cap, had scraped his tongue down the throat of Ate, a top-heavy, middle-aged woman who was also nibbling buttered popcorn after gasping for ‘fresh’ air.

It baffles me why the non-goodlooking ones are always at it with their public displays of affection. I mean, the really gorgeous couples rarely french kiss in public. And even if they did, who would complain?

If I saw Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie necking each other in a public place, I would pull out a chair and some canned soda.

But por dios, por santo! Ate and Kuya?!? C’mon,politically correct fellas, get down from your moral high chairs and concentrate on that image.

One of my friends had a plausible explanation. He said the unattractive lot had to manifest their feelings to show to the world that they managed to find someone else, aside from their mothers, who find them very, very goodlooking.

When I encounter them, usually at the steps of malls and all over UP Diliman’s sunken garden, my mind’s mp3 player screams Barbara Streisand’s “I Finally Found Someone” in full volume.

I don’t know why I’m ranting about this at all. It’s probably because I lost my appetite for popcorn that day. Or maybe, just maybe, it was because of the vacant seat beside me.

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