MAYBE I'm just a hard case without a romantic bone in my body. Maybe it's because I once drove off and left my boyfriend alone at the railway station, eyes closed and pouting into thin air, because I was in such a hurry, I completely forgot to kiss him goodbye. Either way, I know I'm not going to be popular when I say this, but I have realised it's a pet peeve of mine and I may as well 'fess up – I hate kissing in public.
When I read that Warrington Bank Quay train station in Cheshire had banned kissing, I cheered. Last week, with impeccable timing just after Valentine's Day, a red-bordered, circular sign went up in the Virgin Rail-controlled station depicting the bla
ck silhouettes of two people kissing, with a big red line through the picture.
If you want to kiss at Warrington Bank Quay, you are now kindly requested to do it in the nearby car park. Unfortunately for curmudgeons like me, it doesn't look as though the kissing ban is going to be too rigidly enforced.
A Virgin spokesman said: "We have put the sign up at the drop-off point because it is not a very big area and it often gets busy with lots of traffic. The sign is a light-hearted way of getting people to move on quickly."
So it's the ban, rather than the kissing, that's tongue-in-cheek. But I wouldn't be so lenient. I'd be standing there by the sign, batting people over the head with a heavy suitcase at the slightest sign of a pucker.
I know, I know, objecting to any display of affection is like saying that you hate ice-cream, or fluffy kittens, or parties (to be honest, I'm not mad on parties, either, but therein lies another rant), but what can I say? Excessive, full-on, public snogging displays annoy me.
I think my dislike stems from one appalling train journey many years ago, when I was stuck sitting opposite a couple who slobbered all over each other all the way from Edinburgh to Birmingham. The grunts and gulps were hideous to witness. I stared out of the window, I read every bit of literature I could lay my hands on, I counted my fingers 800 times rather than look up, but there was nowhere to hide and every now and then I couldn't help but catch a glimpse of them, heaving around and occasionally coming up for air.
I hated them. I hated them for taking my freedom to look around; I hated them for taking my freedom to relax; I hated them for proving to me that I didn't have the guts to scream, "Oh for God's sake, STOP IT!" on a crowded train. But most of all, I hated them for forcing me, against my natural inclination, to become a voyeur.
This was an extreme example, I grant you, but it has obviously scarred me for life. Now, should my loved one's lips linger on mine for more than a few seconds in public, I tend to break away in wide-eyed horror, like a silent movie heroine trying to preserve her virtue.
Talking of films, I wonder if some people think that locking together like a couple of limpets will cause one of those excruciatingly corny Hollywood moments to happen. You know the kind I mean – where the surrounding crowd bursts into spontaneous applause at the sight of such love in their midst. When I watched Titanic, the sound of my retching completely drowned out the clapping.
I don't expect anybody to agree with me about this. I haven't yet found anybody that does, and my husband thinks it's proof that I'm turning into a grumpy old woman (only turning? He's behind the times), but if that sign stops just one, lank-haired, hippie couple from idly salivating over one another while preventing decent, hard-working people, who keep their lips to themselves, from getting on the train of their choice, I shall applaud.
You just know that this whole situation has happened because a couple of crazed face-suckers, totally oblivious to the wants and needs of the rest of the world, have caused a terrible commuter pile-up. And I'm sorry that this means anybody wanting a goodbye peck on the cheek is going to be looked at askance, but so be it.
What's wrong with a quick hug and a wave of the hanky?
If you really must say a long, lingering goodbye, get a room. Or if you're at Warrington Bank Quay, get a parking space.
