Public hugs

Over the last week, I've encountered two separate scenarios in which the issue of public hugging has crossed my path.

Scenario one
Last week, as I sat in drinking my first ever iced mocha (it was disappointing), I watched as a group of people held up 'free hugs' signs at a busy intersection. (Read about the lovely Free Hugs Campaign here.) I surprised at my initial reaction, which was fear. I knew I'd finish my coffee soon and have to leave the shop (also I had an interview to go to and it's frowned upon to be late to those things), but in leaving, I'd run the risk of them offering me a free hug and then I'd be in one of those awkward situations that is perpetuated by the fact that I'm also English.

I'd either have to accept the hug because it would be rude to turn down what is, on the face of it, a kind gesture of humanity from one human being from another, despite my massive aversion to strangers touching me or, perhaps more accurately, the idea of being so close to someone I don't know that I'm forced to make physical contact with them. Or I'd be so English that my fear of being impolite to a stranger's offer to invade my personal space that I'd forget my own personal feelings for the sake of a stranger's.

So, I did the only option left open to me in this scenario: I left the coffee shop when a group did and stuck closely to the wall, side-walking like a crab, to avoid being within the free hug locus.

Scenario two
I was walking down Kilburn High Road to the tube, listening to a podcast (There's no such thing as a fish, by the QI Elves – it's a brilliant, you should listen!) when a man stopped in front of me and said, "You're beautiful, can I have a hug?"

First of all, when on earth did that ever work as a chat up line? When did saying that become an OK thing to say to a random person on the street? In this instance, I was so taken aback by the front of this man, especially considering the apparent age gap between us and the fact that we were strangers, that I quickly mumbled "No" and walked away as quickly as I could manage.

So, hugging scenarios crossing my path twice in one week: is the universe telling me I need to be more open and affectionate? Well no, as my brother and sister will tell you, when I'm merry I am probably too loving and affectionate. It's more likely it's a huge coincidence, strung together in my own mind. Either way, I still won't ever accept a random hug from a stranger – I'm English and the price I'd have to pay in how uncomfortable it makes me is too high a price for me.

T Rex society probably never had this kind of problem . . .