Overheard on The Street

The other day I was walking from work, and two men close behind me were having a conversation about the annoying bed habits of their partners. One kept harping about how difficult it was to get out of bed in the morning because, unless he got up early enough that his GF was still sleeping or late enough that she had to get to work, he was stuck (that's the word he used -- "stuck") cuddling with her, because she likes (cue Hugely Put-Upon, Deprecating Tone Of Voice) "to cuddle every morning."

On and on and on. And the thing is, he wasn't talking about her as someone he cared about who had this quirk, he was talking about her as though she were a huge annoyance in his life. I kept trying to get away from them, crossing the street, moving to the side, and they followed, him ranting on and on about The Tyranny of the Cuddle.

Now, I understand not wanting to be trapped in another person's habit, no matter how adorable it might seem to the outside world. I love to cuddle in bed, I love to be affectionate, but if I have someplace I have to be, I'd find it annoying as hell to be grabbed and trapped, as previous boyfriends have discovered. I'm also not a fan of neediness in either gender, and have pretty much zero tolerance for anyone who complains about someone they clearly shouldn't be with and has obviously lost all feelings for, but is too lazy/cowardly/used to the convenient sex to let go.

Having failed to lose him, I finally turned fully to face him. I wanted to get a good look. He was Generic Loop Chicago: clean-cut, chinos, button-down, nothing fitting quite right, dumpy and prematurely middle-aged at thirty-five. He looked at me, startled, realized that I'd overheard him, and looked embarrassed. But at least he shut up, and I stopped having to fight the urge to say, "dump her or talk to her, but stop taking this for granted."