PDA Police

Following the stunning pictures of the Festival of Lights, Tolu sent a complaint about the people making out in front of it. I was surprised by the message because, like me, Tolu is a PDA merchant. I guess there’s truth in the popular saying, “too much of everything is bad”.

“They should get a room!!! Preferably away from the Festival of Lights!” she texted back. “Not the PDA police in our midst.” I taunted. In the face of the insanity going on in the world right now, the silliness or depending on your lens, bravery of love and affection is necessary. Urgent even.

Berlin is a paradox. A city that’s a hotbed for one-night stands, casual dating, threesomes, open relationships, is still full of big and small PDAs - clutching each other on a scooter, holding hands, kissing, hugging ati be be lo. The week I got here, I remember walking to the U-bahn at Güntzelstraße and talking the x-man’s ear off about the prevalence of PDA here vs in Nigeria, where there’s barely any but everyone has children instead to show.

It’s Friday night, I’m grocery shopping by way of the gym. In front of me in the queue to check out chicken breast for my dinner, wings for Beauty in the Black watch party with Amarachi, Prisca, and Prisca’s sister, is a couple huddled together. The man wears a dangling earring, and I remember a tweet saying, “Any man who wears dangling earrings has nothing to offer you.”

I was still chuckling to myself about the tweet when the man reached to draw the woman closer to him. I was befuddled. She’s already beside him. How much closer can she get? What does physics or biology allow?

Still unable to find answers, he further unintentionally stresses me out by kissing her hair, then her forehead, then her nose. He stops and walks his hands through her curls. Ravyn Lenae is singing Closer over Steve Lacy’s production in my ears, and I realize that I’m going to ask Tolu for the PDA police application form.

If you can’t beat them, hate on them.