Public Smooching
Upper East Side, NYC.
This week, the Complaint Box in the Times' Metropolitan section was given over to Nicole Ferraro's jeremiad against the proliferation of public affection. Ferraro, a 26-year-old editor who lives in Manhattan, is in a bit of a fix. The whole city is in love, the lovers won't stop touching each other, and she can't stop looking, leading to the following conclusion: "Everywhere I go, people are fondling each other as if the entire city were a cheap motel room."
So far there have been more than 460 comments to Ferraro's story on the website, and most are in the pro-fondling camp. So am I. I understand the aversion to public displays of lust - on her last visit, my poor mom got stuck on an otherwise-empty E train car with a couple doing things that could make someone pregnant - but Ferraro's threshold for disgust is considerably lower. Consider this harrowing encounter:
"At a restaurant on the Lower East Side recently, I was enjoying a friend’s company when the man and woman next to us joined hands across the table. If it had stopped there, we could have just rolled our eyes and continued our conversation. Instead, they leaned in for a lengthy, passionate kiss that lifted them off their chairs. We skipped dessert and decided to cap off the meal at a nearby coffee shop."
Despite the depravity of food-serving establishments, her worst ire is reserved for the subway. People stand too close, people kiss, people nuzzle. None escape her bitter gaze. "I have news for you, canoodling commuters," Ferraro warns, Ann Landers-style. "These are subways, not private gondolas." So true! Also, there's too much kissing in the motion pictures nowadays and the television ads are too loud between programs!
Maybe we ride different trains, but given the panorama of inappropriate public behavior that is the New York subway, I would pay extra to be guaranteed a car with nothing creepier than canoodling. None of the smooching, cuddly couples I've seen on the subway linger in my mind. Can't say the same for:
- The man flossing his teeth and spitting the excavated gunk on the floor.
- Same guy, threatening to "put a bullet in [my] back" for looking at his floss.
- The woman eating her fingernails (not biting - tearing off chunks of fingernail, popping them into her mouth like pork rinds and chewing, loudly).
- The guy delivering a long, loud sermon the whole commute to work, of which the only intelligible words were "sin," "lesbian," and "jay-ZUS."
- The woman who screamed, "Bitch, push me, I'll push you BACK!!" at a lady who was jostled by the crowd.
- The homeless guy who reluctantly accepted a passenger's offer of food (instead of the money he asked for), sniffed it, and threw the entire meal on the floor.
- The girl who pried the closing door open with her prosthetic arm (okay, that was kind of awesome).
- The unimaginable act that caused the floor of the 6 train to be covered with human feces.
Public affection isn't just the lesser of many evils. I believe a publicly affectionate New York is a happier place. When New Yorkers' lips are pressed against each other, they're not telling anyone to fuck off, not throwing elbows on the subway, not ordering shady business deals nor relentlessly getting ahead. It's a reminder that people have room for emotions other than frustration and sadness. It's a reminder - one of many available - that being alive doesn't have to suck all the time.
Also? The couple holding hands and smooching at the restaurant like a pair of shameless harlots could easily have been my husband and me. We've kissed in public before and we're going to do it again. As a commenter named Texican pointed out on the NYTimes site, "Absent love and affection, I would be hard pressed to identify any attributes that make humankind worthwhile. I’m not here for the laundromats."
Posted on Monday, Apr 5, 2010
