Here's the thing: PDA is awful. And I'm not talking about the cute couple innocently holding hands at the mall, I'm referring to that guy in front of you in the line at the Verizon store rubbing his girlfriend's butt. Excuse me mister, but can you please wish for me to be transported to a land far away that has copious amounts of puppies and popsicles because clearly your girlfriend's rear end is some sort of magical genie lamp. Also, sweet flip phone.
*Sips from Capri Sun pouch*
Here's the other thing: College is awesome. That fun motorcycle-riding uncle with the tattoo who took you out for ice cream as a kid and drunkenly starts congo lines at family weddings is like if college were a person. College is a sacred institution in which the beer flows freely (both down your mouth and all over your shirt), the chicken fingers are always cooked to perfection and getting yelled at by drunk guys on roofs when you're walking back from the library on a Thursday night is inevitable. It's like a summer camp except all the bug juice is spiked. You're in that awkward "I'm kind of an adult, but LOL not really" phase and it's marvelous.
Adulthood is that annoying ex (that I've read so much about in novels) who incessantly drunk dials you and sends texts saying "You up? You know you have an 8 AM class tomorrow, you should really go to bed." Excuse me Adulthood, but you're being super desperate and it's a major turn off. Our relationship won't be Facebook official until May of 2014 and until then I will be playing the field with this plate of pizza and Lizzie McGuire movie that I just bought for 5 bucks at Half Price Books.
*Blows up now empty Capri Sun pouch, offers it to friend, laughs hysterically*
Here's the final thing: College = PDA central. Drunken tightly packed hormonal specimens in dark enclosed quarters with liquid courage coursing through their veins and Ke$ha playing in their heads are to PDA as frat guys are to tank tops. There's always someone making out in a corner or grinding or doing weird things that are just not okay. Can't we wait until we're in the comfort of our footie pajamas are all that touchy stuff?
In the words of Cher Horowitz, you see how picky I am about my shoes and they only go on my feet. Just because we had a lovely conversation about Nintendo 64 Tony Hawk pro skater and our affinity for all things Harry Potter does not mean I want you to jump down my throat. Unless your name is General Tso, then hey bb u look delicious ;)
Basically, I just want us all to be respectable nice young people and not engage in make out sessions in the middle of bars because that's tacky. Pretend you're under a microscope. A literal microscope. The bar is a petri dish. Your sweet plaid pants-wearing grandpa with the hearing aids watches in horror as you let some guy grope you in front of the bartender. That is all.
Peace, love, and SAY NO TO PDA,
Awkward Girl
P.S. THIS HAPPENED LAST NIGHT AND I'M STILL CRINGING:
(the entire conversation involved me rambling on about how awkward I am)
Guy at bar: So then have you ever been awkwardly kissed?
*leans in*
Me: YEAH AND I DON'T WANT IT HAPPENING AGAIN
*drops mic, walks off stage, trips, questions whether or not I should've let him kiss me in the middle of the bar, decides that's gross, worries he could've been my future husband, shrugs, orders 10 chicken nuggets at McDonalds and pays for the cab driver's too*
Try to kiss me once at a bar and succeed because you kind of just went for it and I didn't have time to process what was going on, but ultimately shame on me.
Try to kiss me four years later at a bar and fail because I'M A CONFIDENT YOUNG WOMAN HEAR ME ROAR, no shame on me. Just a nail polish stain.
