Do You Make Fun of Side-Sitting Couples?

I have a history of being unmerciful to side-sitting couples. I pass restaurants on the daily thanks to my yellow Labrador Phyllis’s penchant for walks.

My reaction is the same.

First it makes me smile, then laugh, and then I think…

“Who does that? And why do they do that? It seems silly. It screams romantic reinvention. It shouts we are in our second relationship in life. Stop it already.”

And I’m a romantic…I love ‘love.’

I write about love. I write about rainbows and butterflies. I’m a sugar and spice and everything nice kinda girl. I believe in dreams and reinvention. I want a second chance at love.

But side-sitters?

They feel like the proverbial poster children for adults posing as teenagers.

You get the gist.

My point of view was alive and kicking until the other day.

I was out with a man.

It was a gorgeous day so we made our way to an outside table. We sat and talked for hours. We had a few drinks. It was fun. Except have no mercy for me here.

I don’t deserve it.

I stared at him with one pesky thought.

“I wish I was sitting closer to him.”

Oh my gosh, shoot me now. Put me out of my misery. I wasn’t surprised. I was shocked. I shoved that thought down to the recesses of my brain.

But it was going nowhere.

I wanted to be closer to him.

I blame this particular venue. It’s a beacon for side-sitting romantics. I blame those darn Italian vibes and ambiance. What’s that Billy Joel says about “Italian Restaurants?”

Anyway…

The man I’m with gets up, and when he returns to the table he sits next to me.

“Seriously?” I very insincerely protest. I can totally do this since he has no way of knowing what I had been previously thinking. “You’re turning us into side-sitters?”

He doesn’t miss a beat.

“Says the woman who just grabbled my hand.”

Okay, I might’ve reached for his hand…grab is a strong word.

A few days later, I’m out with two of my friends. We are in the same romance pushing eatery. There are two couples sitting next to us.

They both appear to be in their late 70’s.

Their intimacy and body language is wildly opposite. One couple sits across from each other in their booth. She peruses the menu while he stares blankly into his cell phone.

The other couple?

They are playful side-sitters.

They aren’t simply sitting on the same side of the booth, they are sitting pressed against one another. They are laughing, sharing conversation, and nibbling at their food.

I pointed these two couples out to my friend, along with their obvious differences.

“Are you and your boyfriend side-sitters?” I ask.

“Of course we are.”

In a million years, I wouldn’t have called this one. I would have said never. I would’ve thought my friend was of like mind in this romantic category. The people who find side-sitting cringeworthy.

“C’mon,” I say. “It’s obvious that one couple has been together for years, and the other must have connected later in life.”

I crave a conversation on the topic since I’ve fallen prey to the side-sitting population. Despite making myself a massive hypocrite. I listen to my friend’s thoughts.

At about this time, the side-sitting woman passes by our table.

I can’t help myself.

“The two of you look so happy sitting next to each other.”

“Where else would I sit?” she says with a smile. “We’ve been married for 60 years.”

Evidently, I was meant to learn a serious lesson about side-sitters. There were no words of mine left to eat. I had swallowed them all. I was wrong to be amused by side-sitting.

I was wrong to find it silly.

It’s a form of intimacy.

It’s a connection we should foster and hold onto. The one lovely couple was a pure example of that. I’ve written about the little intimacies we lose once we are married.

We shouldn’t lose those intimacies.

When we do, they threaten to break down all intimacy.

Adam Sandler told Travis Kelce and Taylor Swift, “Kiss every chance you have.” But many of us don’t. Somewhere along the line we abandon some of the love affair.

We lose romantic subtleties.

The attentive stare, the hand held, the passionate kiss, the desire to simply sit closer to one another, to feel the heartbeat of the one we love.

It’s romantically dangerous.

A lack of intimacy creates an insurmountable distance between two people.

It’s not easily bridged once lost.

I can’t criticize the type of connection that makes one want to share the same space. Especially after a 60 year marriage that is still thriving with love, and laughter.

I can no longer be a shameless critic of side-sitting souls.

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This post was previously published on medium.com.