Dear Diary ⸺ The Unrepentant Kissers

24 June 2024

I have been using the Biblioteca Camões (which translates to Camões Library) for a while now. As soon as you become a regular, you start to recognize the other regulars. Today, however, is about the other regulars who are just “nuisancically nuisanças” – yes, I made that up, feeling like an Aristotle today.

I was minding my own business, deep in thought, entangled in the complexities of man in the quest for knowledge. My brain was so fried from thinking in circles, I could literally hear the neurons sizzling like fried plantain. I had been staring at my laptop screen for what felt like an eternity when my gaze drifted away, seeking a momentary escape from my academic torment. Then they put themselves within the rays of my gaze.

I saw them. At first, I thought it was my imagination, as it was not a rare sight, but then I realized I had seen them do this daily. Today, my mind was alert. Who are they? Adam and Eve – The Unrepentant Kissers. Sitting a few tables away, this couple was locked in a passionate intermittent embrace, making the most romantic scenes in movies look like amateur hour. I couldn’t help but wonder, can people kiss that much and still claim to be studying? Should this even be legal?

Exactly thirty minutes into this display, intrigued, I decided to conduct a little unscientific experiment of my own. Giving myself a little pep talk, I said, “If you cannot study your book, at least study another thing – everything is research.” So, I watched them for a while—well, more than a while. How many minutes do we have in an hour again? Sixty-two kisses in sixty minutes between 2:30 – 3:30 pm. Yes, I counted. And no, I did not get any studying done during this time. It was like a car crash; you just couldn’t look away. More than shock, I was full of questions – hanging onto the borderline of being sheerly irritated or infuriated.

Then, it was almost as if somebody jolted me into reality. There was a man right behind me, sleeping and snoring loudly. If only I had a drum set, I could get an off-the-chart record label song this minute. Did I tell you his feet have this smell that could raise Lazarus back to life again a second time?

Looking 360 degrees and still surveying, there was this guy parallel to my table to the east whose mode of dressing I could never understand. He is the definition of a living pin cushion – every part of his face that was not pierced surely is on the way to being pierced. His music, oh Lord, was so loud, even though he used headphones and was a few tables away from me, I could hear every note crystal clear.

I shook my head because surely, this lad would lose his hearing soon. No one can tell me otherwise. To add to the absurdity of my study environment, there was another lady, northwest, who sat and couldn’t even attempt to close her legs, but wore clothes so brief, my grandma would have a heart attack—her undies were up for display like an auction. I don’t know why Victoria’s Secret hasn’t found her yet—she would make a perfect model.

The dissonance of Mr. Snorer’s snores, the dazed smell of the shoes, the couple’s “muah” sound that my brain still kept track of like 38, 39, 40, Victoria’s Secret model, and my frazzled brain had now taken me to the peak of distraction – a perfect storm was brewing in me. If I channelled that energy and wrote a song, it would be a hit like Adele’s.

I was tired of my survey and decided to face my front, and there she was – let’s call her “Eagle-eyed” seated directly opposite me. Our gaze met, and I saw this suppressed outrage on her face. I wondered, what’s wrong with this one? You are not my friend, so why are your eyes looking like mine as if we were communicating? I followed her gaze, and it took me back to Adam and Eve. Then I understood the common sign language we bore like a creed; the both of us were hopelessly frustrated and irritated. But this is Europe, the land of all rights. It’s a miracle I haven’t been arrested yet.

Then I tried to study. As soon as I saw the screen of my laptop and remembered my dilemma with the complexities of man in the quest for knowledge – I quickly looked away as though I was running away from my problems. Automatically, my brain and eyes went back to Adam and Eve – the northwest couple.

They noticed me staring, and I held my gaze. I didn’t even stare right back; I was exhausted and crying to God that I was tired and needed a break. And true to His name, He gave me one—albeit in a rather unexpected form. The couple shifted many times to ascertain whether I was looking at them, but if you’re Nigerian, you know, as a people, we’ve been taught the art of looking without looking and holding that aloof gaze for as long as the trumpet of God sounds.

Bringing this skill into full display, they couldn’t tell if I was looking but my brain kept counting. Honestly, how can anyone possibly study like this? For one, I can never be productive if I study with a friend beside me, let alone an attachment.

Just imagine trying to focus on the intricacies of gaps in knowledge and literature while your friend-turned-study-buddy-turned-partner is constantly distracting you with kisses. It’s a wonder they even remember what subject they’re supposed to be studying.

Maybe there should be designated areas in the library for Public Displays of Affection (PDAs). A “Kissing Zone” perhaps, where those who wish to combine romance with academics can do so without distracting the rest of us. But then again, who am I kidding? The whole library would turn into a giant Kissing Zone.

As I watched them, I couldn’t help but shake my head and laugh at the preposterousness of it all. Maybe they were onto something, but they couldn’t be. I have heard consistent uninterrupted “muahs” for about a month now from Adam and Eve. Perhaps they had found the secret to keeping their stress levels down while the rest of us struggled to maintain our sanity. Or maybe, just maybe, they were as clueless as the rest of us, fumbling through adulthood without a guide.

So, here I am, still not closer to finishing my business of the day, but I have a newfound respect for those who can manage to turn a library into their personal love nest. As for me, I think I’ll stick to studying alone and sit closest to the librarian because even they can’t ignore someone kissing 62 times in one hour. Besides, I need to face my studies now before I need bail money, and Mizé can’t save me as she is off to Madrid.

P.S. Should kissing be allowed or banned in public libraries, just like we aren’t allowed to eat or smoke in them?

Until next time,

For previous post on Adulthood: The Myth of Common Sense see https://oluwatoyosiabikoye.com/adulthood-the-myth-of-common-sense/