PDA or Exhibitionism?

I was inside a parking garage elevator last night when a young couple came in and started making out right in front of me. The guy had his hands all over her “parts” and there I was standing, as still as a statue, twelve inches away from them in fear that a roaming limb might accidentally brush against me.

They must have known I was in there. Hello? We were inside an elevator. It’s elevator etiquette to at least give your fellow passengers a nod of acknowledgement. I cleared my throat. I went as far as to say “hello.” Totally ignored. To top it off, the elevator traveled at a snail’s pace. We’d passed the second floor. Just one more floor before mine. Hurry I thought ’cause they were heavy into second base with the kissing and fondling and my eyes couldn’t help but look. It’s like road kill; you don’t wanna but you just gotta. I was a resentful voyeur.

I felt intruded upon  by this hormone frenzied duo and their PDA. I was totally invisible to them. Maybe they were so lost in each other that everything else ceased to exist. I didn’t exist. Love is blind. Lust is blind. Or maybe they were exhibitionists.
This thought made me laugh. The elevator door finally opened. I scooted out of the compartment doing my best not to disturb their bliss. Besides, they’d missed their floor.

Voyeuristically yours,

Lafemmeroar

© 2011 Lafemmeroar

About Lafemmeroar
Writer, blogger, humorist. Visit my blog to know more :)) Laughing at the malfunction of the universe is better than crying about it.

2 Responses to PDA or Exhibitionism?

  1. Bob says:

    The best thing to do in such instances is to fill the elevator cab with a huge, roaring fart!

    • Lafemmeroar says:

      lmao!!!!!!!! That is sooooo surprising coming from you my friend! 🙂 Wish I had the hot air to pull it off at the time 🙂

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