Affection can be a great thing. Please do not misconstrue this entry as a cry against affection or its occasional public display. The Wussola University study here concerns couples who cannot stop holding hands.
Enter the cursed buffet-line Kabuki. The couple in front of you who, acting like siamese twins, cannot separate clasped hands from one another to execute individual food choices. It’s a Darwinian microcosm: either they let go for a blinding moment of solitary existence, starve to death, or work as one to give each other sustenance.
Hands fused, a clumsy dance of plates up, plates down, servings spoons up, serving spoons down will ensue. It’s a ghastly site to behold. At a private party this ritual is especially painful; not only are you required to stay in the quasi-line, but the general pace of progress around the table is ground to an excruciating halt.
“Oh, there’s some of that salad with the marshmallows and oranges...” Thing One furtively holds out a plate. Thing Two puts down its plate, retrieves the spoon from the bowl of Frog Eye salad and places a small spoonful on Thing One's plate. The coy playing begins: “Oh, maybe just a little bit more.” They chuckle as Thing Two jokingly places another baby-portion on Thing One's plate. “A little more than this?” Tee hee hee. Again, another baby-spoon plop of pasta and marshmallow. More chortles. More knowing glances, maybe even a “Oh, silly, leave room for the chips." This continues through the spinach salad, the greek salad, the chips and the finger sandwiches. Unknowingly, the world around them continues to turn. Babies are born. Elders pass away and the grip stronger than a thousand titans holds true. Your time is theirs.
Once the offending couple sits to eat you hear the unmistakable uncoupling of train cars... chunk, clink, tink, the hiss of steam and the medical miracle of separating the twins has occurred . They nibble away in multi-digit bliss. They will finish at the same time, then like the Phoenix, they will rise from their ashes of separation and, hand-in-hand, place their paper-plates in the garbage -- just in time for you to get behind them in the dessert line.