Respect for right conduct is felt by every body.

1/20/2012 The Lady 6 Comments

Respect for right conduct may be felt by every body, but respect for personal space is rarely felt by a certain gentleman of my acquaintance.The Drive-By Hugger orbits The Frenzy of Five like an over-zealous electron. When The Drive-By Hugger walks in the door, all sense of propriety (on his part, with perhaps a small dose of encouragement on my part) promptly dives out the window. The Drive-By Hugger aggravatingly provokes me to be completely over-the-top flirty, and he is unfortunately the sort of man that one loves to flirt with but whom one does not wish to date/marry (because the two are synonymous you know).

The Drive-By Hugger and I have developed a sort of game with one another. Well, I suppose it is much less like a game and much more like a sickening explosion of bottled-up flirtatious energy. (See what happens when I attempt to repress my "coquettishness"?). After sacrament meeting, I stand at the back of the chapel idling away the time before Sunday School begins, and I see The Drive-By Hugger approaching suavely with that devil-may-care glint in his eye. I focus my attention more intently on a friend--who is chatting about the hymns being played to slow or that Sunday School is too boring--and try to stave off the pre-teen excitement that mounts as he steps closer. He gets my attention, and I immediately stick out my hand for a handshake, which he refuses and pulls me into his 6'4" frame. This same game happens every Sunday without fail. Sometimes we play on the weekdays, but it is mostly reserved for the Sabbath.

Now the reason I have labeled this man as The Drive-By Hugger (The D.B.H.) is because once he has hugged me (or any other woman for that matter) he simply walks away without so much as a "How are you?" or "How was your week?" It's as though he just needs a quick fix, and then he's on his way, leaving a trail of shattered hearts behind him. Except for me. I know his game. I play his game. In fact we play this game with each other so well that several members of our ward have approached me to ask if we are dating.

This Sunday however, The D.B.H. took things to the next level. After sacrament meeting, we played our usual game of "Handshake vs. Bear Hug" and parted ways for Sunday School. Prior to Relief Society, The D.B.H. was talking to a fellow sister I needed to talk to about some ward function, so I sauntered over. I made my business quick and was about to leave when The D.B.H. pulled me in for another rumor-starting hug. Then he had the nerve to up the ante. Instead of just walking away as usual, The D.B.H. pulled my face towards his, and planted one on me. An eskimo kiss that is. (You really thought he was going to kiss me at church? Don't be vulgar.) Before I could register that the sacred nose to nose barrier had been thoroughly violated in front of no less than fifty ward members, The D.B.H. was already in Elders Quorum.

Eskimo kissing is just something I do not do (nor have ever done), and something that I definitely do not do at church. I may be avoiding The D.B.H. for a few weeks.

So that is how I was violated at church and lost my membership in the V.N.C. (Virgin Nose Club) all in one day.

Con Amor,
The Coquette