RANDOM STUFF: KISSING AND HUGGING AND A DEGREE OF CUPPING

Are you a kisser and/or a hugger? 

Because I am English, it used to be unnatural to me. We English are not known for our warmth, and the first time a foreign person hugged me, I wanted to say, “Are we sleeping together? I think not.” And flounce off feeling violated.

I remember hearing a story on the radio about a chap who married into a family of hug & kissers. And he HATED it. He especially hated hugging his father-in-law, a very affectionate man who also happened to be quite short. As a consequence, when the father-in-law went in for the hug, this chap would find himself with a tiny, bald gentleman nestled in his chest. “It felt like breast-feeding a spider-monkey,” he said.

So hug-hater decided to take a stand. The next time he was at a family gathering he was prepared – coiled – to LEAP up and go in ready with the Manly Handshake before anyone could hug him or peck him on the cheek.

It didn’t quite work out that way. At the next family gathering he found he had been given the Comfy Chair. Which was nice to sit in but hard to leap up out of. As a consequence, when the conversation came to an end and people started to make a move toward the door he badly mis-timed it.

As the chap pushed himself up out of his armchair with his hand outstretched for the handshake, his father-in-law was already in motion coming in for the hug. The two men clashed in the most horrific fashion and before he knew how it happened, this chap realised he was cupping his father-in-laws balls squarely in the middle of his outstretched palm.

There they were. Sitting there. Resting in his hand. All warm. Like a pair of baby ducks riding on their mother’s back.

“Time stood still,” said the man. “I suddenly realised the entire family was looking at me with a mixture of curiosity and horror.”

Fortunately, the family decided to laugh the whole thing off. Less fortunately, the man is now even closer than ever to his father-in-law and therefore permanently committed to the hug.

As for me, the sheer number of foreigners in my life has meant I’ve had to get used to the hug and you know, I actually came to like it. Close male friends deserve the bear-hug complemented by the manly-back-clap. And as for women, I can now even perform that difficult manoeuvre, the one-cheek-two-cheek-double-kiss without bashing anyone with my nose or accidentally progressing to a third or fourth cheek which is just wrong and embarrassing.

So if you – person reading this – ever feel the need for some sugar from me, go for it. I promise I will be totally cool about it. Just be careful with your timing, unless you want to be cupped.