When you can't live without bananas

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Friday, September 07, 2007

I used to wonder why some people liked to stay back in school until a late hour. In recent semesters I have become acquainted with some of the reasons why, but today another very important reason for this phenomenon was in evidence.

While walking to the bus stop at about 10:30pm, I passed by the Arts Canteen. Perched on the pavement just outside it (before the stairs leading to Computing) I noticed a black shape.

Now, in and of itself, that would not be so surprising, unless it was a bomb planted by some disgruntled Year 4 student trying to blow the new canteen up, but then I noticed that the shape was moving.

After some squinting, I managed to make out that it was a couple making out. The guy was sitting on the pavement, and the girl was seated in his lap, with her arms around his neck and performing all the attendant actions.

As I walked past, he slowly lay back and formed himself into a supine position, with her simultaneously leaning forward until she was on top of him.

Some asked why I did not take any photographic evidence of this tryst. Besides the immense regard I have for people's privacy and their right to make out in public, there's also the small matter of my being pai kar today (I got painkillers from the doctor) and not being able to run fast enough, with my heavy bag, in case someone got angry that his private property was being violated.

Frigid Girl asked if she was wearing a skirt or trousers. This was a good question, but they were getting at it very slowly and measuredly so unless they liked it slow and hard it was probably trousers. Screwed Up Girl suggested that they were rehearsing for a play. This was not such a good question.

In retrospect, perhaps the most amazing thing is not the relative conspicuity of the time and venue but the fact that we (or at least I) don't see this sort of thing (to this extent, at least) more often.

Some accuse me of being a voyeur, but apart from the fact that I walked past instead of lingering (taking in only enough to fulfil my journalistic duty), when you perform certain activities in a public place you are an exhibitionist so the moral baggage goes onto your shoulders instead.
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