Last night, the Significant Other and I were invited for coffee by acquaintances I’ve nicknamed the “kiss kiss” couple.
The nickname alone should give away the fact that these people are of the “joined at the hip” variety.
You now the type.
They’re the couple who’s always blowing kisses at each other, hugging for no reason, and finishing each other’s sentences.
Visits to their home result in my spending half the time in the bathroom–fighting off the need to hurl, or employing visualization to transport me to faraway places; places where I don’t have to hear them coo and whisper to each other.
I should clarify that the Significant Other originally met them while on a walking holiday in France.
A walking holiday?
Who the hell walks on a holiday?
Again, that should give you an inkling of how “eccentric” these people are; the Significant Other included.
But I digress.
Their names are Lou and Sue.
No, they’re not, but let’s pretend they are for the sake of this post.
From the moment I met Lou and Sue, I knew they would bring strife to our relationship.
They’re the kind of couple who sits so close to each other, anyone who doesn’t know them thinks they’re conjoined twins.
When Lou’s cold, Sue throws on a sweater, and when Sue’s hot, Lou takes off his shirt.
Whenever Sue leaves the room, Lou follows, and if Lou has to go to the bathroom, Sue goes with him.
Watching them makes me break out in hives.
The Significant Other, on the other hand, deems their behavior romantic, and labels mine cynical and childish.
But really, how many Kodak moments and PDA’s should we be forced to witness before opening the balcony door to jump to our death?
Sadly, it matters not how many times we visit Sue and Lou (thus far, only twice), we’re made to witness the same performance every time.
And I say performance because I have a hard time believing people like this really exist.
Lou cracks a joke we’ve heard at least three times, and Sue laughs her head off like he’s Steve Martin doing stand up.
Sue brings out a tray with coffee and store-bought cookies and Lou gushes like she’s serving orange duckling flambé.
Lou talks and Sue sits riveted on the edge of her chair.
Sue giggles and Lou says, “Your giggle is so cute!”
Witnessing the spectacle makes me dry heave, a reaction which results in frustrated sighs from the Significant Other.
Fortunately, leaving Lou and Sue’s stifles my desire to light myself on fire
Unfortunately, it compels the Significant Other to psychoanalyze my behavior.
“Does Lou and Sue’s loving relationship threaten and intimidate you?”
“Don’t you mean, does Lou and Sue’s loving relationship make me want to scratch my eyes out?”
“Is it so hard for you to believe that two people can care about each other like that?”
“Is it so hard for you to believe Sue and Lou might be under the influence of carbon monoxide poisoning?”
“Be cynical. It’s what you do best.”
“Be foolishly idealistic. It’s what you do best.”
I’m convinced Sue and Lou are the reason mainstream couples fight.
It’s like they use their “kiss kiss” behavior to purposefully wreak havoc in people’s relationships and laugh in the process.
I can almost hear Lou and Sue now.
Sue: “How long before they’re giving each other the silent treatment?”
Lou: About sixty seconds.
Sue: “I’m so glad we’re not like them.”
Lou: “I’m glad you don’t spend that much time in the bathroom.”
Imagining this scenario makes me want to bring brownies to Lou and Sue’s the next time we visit; brownies laced with laxatives.
That ought to show Lou how much time Sue can spend in the bathroom.
Disclaimer: This post is written for entertainment purposes only. I’m not hating on love, folks. I’m simply portraying how I see it from the other side of the room.