A Monday PSA

Spinster friends, I didn’t know it still existed out there.  I thought we were well beyond those days, that they’d died over 10 years ago along with my love of JC Chasez and sleeveless turtlenecks.  And now that I’ve had a solid several weeks to recover, I think I’m ready to talk about it.

It’s the pelvic thrust hug.  Or the PTH (you know I love a good acronym).  What. The.  Hell.

Oh, you know what this is.    The date is going well and it’s time to say your goodbyes but you’re not quite ready for that first kiss so you go in for a quality hug.  In my own mind I’m imaging a closer whiff of that nice aftershave scent I detected earlier. Then I’m thinking (with delight!) of the opportunity to smooth my hands across those man muscles that I saw rippling underneath that Ralph Lauren half-zip when you reached for your fork. Then, then!  Just when you’ve both closed in and you think you’re at full (appropriate) hugging contact you detect a horrifying movement in the hip region.  It’s like the guy’s hips are a Boeing 747 that overshot the runway and just kept going.  They crossed the hugging plane into full PTH territory and there’s no going back.

I can’t imagine a worse buzz kill at the end of a date (ok, I can, but go with me on this).  Just when I thought I was about to get a quality hug – WHAM! – man parts being thrust at me with nary an invitation.  Gentlemen, this is just not acceptable.  It’s wasn’t acceptable in high school either, but you were a bit more forgiven at that time.  The hormones were a-ragin’ and it didn’t surprise me that the PTH was the only way some of the boys got any action when the rest of their free time was spent ogling Cobra Mustangs at the local car show.  Even Hunky Hank with his shoulders of a Greek god (seriously you guys, best shoulders I’ve ever seen on a guy, as in I didn’t even know a shoulder could get me so worked up!) fell victim to the unfortunate PTH.  Or rather, I fell victim to his PTH.  I’m sure he was as happy as a clam.

The PTH should have died out when we were 18.  It was the hug that belonged on extinction list of everything awkward from our teenage years and I’m pretty much horrified to discover it still exists.  Gentlemen, don’t make me stick a flotation device around my hips just so I can keep my personal space.  As much as I love Belle, she doesn’t go with anything in my wardrobe and would likely ruin the line of my Kate Spade skirt.

- Kate

About these ads

14 thoughts on “A Monday PSA

  1. And the ‘Most Awkward’ award goes to…… Drum roll please…. (hypothetically of course) That guy you’d hoped could turn out to be next weeks date to your cousins wedding but instead has plummeted down in the ranks so far and fast with his PTH that the best chance of him having a second date is attending your neighbors’ nephews’ bar mitzvah. The PTH is as unacceptably creepy as the twice removed great uncle Lesters of the family that pinch your nipple at holiday parties and ask “if you’re planning on getting married before your breasts start sagging”

    • Omg, the uncle Lesters! ::shudders:: I swear, I’m going to have nightmares about that type of thing. Seriously, the things we bachelorettes must face in this crazy dating world…

    • Austin was apparently behind the times because I distinctly remember PTHs as a junior in HS!

      I keep thinking there must have been something the girls did that was equally as awkward but I really can’t think of anything right now.

  2. I hear ya, Kate. Really – if I’m not inviting you to my lips (the upstairs ones) I’m definitely not inviting to grind against their downstairs neighbours.

    Though I think the random-guy-at-bar-snatch-grab is infinitely worse, though very rare. I generally assume that particular act is God punishing me for thinking I’d actually enjoy a nightclub and sends me fleeing back to my favourite bars and pubs. Really, its a public service if you think about it.

  3. 1. I want my boyfriend to wear that sweater. Birthday present, anyone? For him, not me…
    2. I have never experienced this, nor did I know that it existed, but it sounds completely horrendous. I empathize, and will pray tonight that you never experience it again.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s