Ever had anyone yell it at you?

Public displays of affection, or PDA's as I like to call them, are a difficult subject to approach. Everyone seems to know what's over the line, but no one can really define where the line is actually drawn.

When you're head over heels in love, sometimes you get oblivious to what you are doing. We forget that the little kids three rows behind you in the movie theater find your smooching more interesting than the R-rated thriller their parents brought them to. It's great to be in love, but for God's sake, stop French kissing like teenagers during the opening credits. There's nothing less appetizing than watching a couple swap spit while you are eating gooey snack bar nachos.

Now, don't get me wrong, affection is a great thing. There's a right place and time for getting hot and heavy, but it's definitely not at the express line at Fred Meyer. You have to pick your moments carefully.

I once was talking to a woman at a party, when her spouse came up behind her and squeezed her breasts right in front of me. It was one of those moments in which you know that the devil is close by having a good laugh. How are you supposed to react to that situation? Was it just an inappropriate PDA or was it some type of swingers signal? Either way, it was the last party I invited them to; I feared that they would bring a video camera next time.

So where do we as a society draw the line? Holding hands is probably just fine as long as you're not gay. If you are gay, then anything you do in public is going to take years of legislation before you get the OK. The hetero line seems to lie somewhere between a five-second smooch and playing grab-ass at the church picnic.

There is, however, a definite age restriction on PDA's. Any couple that kisses in public past the age of 50 is considered gross. Imagine your grandfather grabbing your grandmother's butt, leaning back against a wall and making out in front of the high school gym. I'm sorry for that image - I'm making myself sick - but you get the point. Unless your grandfather is Hugh Hefner, you might not need to worry about that happening.

And there seems to be a relaxed set of rules for nightclub dance floors. Anything seems to go as long as you keep your clothes on.

I was recently in the Viking having a drink with my cousin and checking out the bar's new "Stripper Prison" dance area, when I began seeing the most over-the-line PDA's viewable in Juneau. It's a family paper, so I'll spare you the details.

Let's just say nightclub dance floors can bring out the "Super Freak" in some of the most normal looking couples. Maybe the owners should charge a fee just to watch.

Regardless, my advice is to keep it clean out there you guys!

• Gerry Bigelow can be contacted at gerrybigelow@yahoo.com.