Euuuuuuurrrrrrrrhghhhh. Unhghghghhhhhhh. EUURRRRRRGGHHHHHH. What? That sound? That's the sound of me vomiting up my non-breakfast at the sight of loved up commuting couples - not just any loved-up couples, I'm talking about the ones who insist on smooching loudly for their entire journey into central London.
You've seen them: from the platform to Oxford Circus, they act like the tube is their high school locker. I'm not bemoaning the
presence of PDA (that's 'public displays of affection' for all of you people who weren't fortunate enough to attend an American high school) on the tube, just people who plant repeated, wet, suction-ey, kisses that cut-through your iPod's in-ear headphones. I feel like going over with a ruler at the high school prom and asking them to keep 6 inches away from each other's faces.
The latest guilty offenders were found in the
elevator lift at Holland Park station. All was quiet on the Western Front, then I heard:
smooooooooch ...
smacccckk ... smmaacckkk. "I ruv you," said the woman. "I ruv you more," said the man as he nuzzled her neck. Awkward for the 3 others in the lift? Nah, not really.
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