(I should add a disclaimer: I will be referring to bad shifts in this article as he, because, as a heterosexual woman, my experience of female shifts is very limited. I’m sure there’s plenty of women who can’t shift either).
You’ve been flirting all night- or maybe even for several nights, weeks, or even months- and the magical moment is at hand. You lean in, your lips meet… DISASTER! He’s a bad shift.
Bad shifting is probably one of the worst things in existence. Yes, war, famine, poverty, Justin Beiber, all very bad things. But there is something so soul-crushingly disappointing about finally getting to shift the man of your dreams only to find out that he hasn’t a clue how to kiss. It does not bode well for further exploration in the arena of the boudoir. (Yes, that is my coy way of saying sex, or as we say in Ireland, “ridin'”.
The most common flaw in the shifting department is the washing machine. It’s one I’ve come across a few times. As the name suggests, it involves the tongue of the offending bad shift rotating with greater speed and force than a industrial washing machine. The victim of this shift can often end up feeling like a lost and lonely sock who has just come to the end of a sixty-degree wash with a host of uncaring bedsheets.
French kissing, as the use of tongue is oddly called, is the downfall of many a shift. Many people simply stick their tongue in and leave it there; others dart in and out like curious lizards. More still don’t open their mouths at all, therefore forbidding any attempt at Frenching.
Then there are the mashers. The masher is a passionate breed; they are so excited to be shifting you they practically knock you out with the force of their lips. I had the unfortunate experience of coming across a masher once who almost bashed one of my teeth out. Pity, he was hot and all. For an example of a masher combined with a biter, watch this cringeworthy video. I have never seen a stronger argument for sex before marriage:
There’s a great Facebook page called The Constitution of a Bad Shift which aims to educate and enlighten the public of the dangers of bad shifts. There are ten distinct types listed.
Dear reader, I expect you have two questions. One, can a bad shift be cured, and two, how does one know if one is a bad shift?
As a charitable soul, I believe a bad shift can be cured. After all, when we began shifting at 12 and 13 years of age, we hadn’t a notion what we were doing. Bumping noses and tangling braces were the order of the day. But with practice, most of us improved. The shift must be willing to take direction, however. Hints like ‘slow down’ and ‘Jesus Christ I can’t breathe!’ are helpful in this regard.
How do you know if you’re a bad shift? (This one has started to worry me slightly as I began to write this article). You don’t. But if shifting feels wrong, and it seems like the other person has a different rhythm, and this happens every single time you shift a new beau/belle, that might be your first clue. You can always ask any exes you still talk to, or colleagues/friends/strangers you may have drunkenly scored in the past.
Shifting is important. Shifting is great, and deserves to be executed in the proper manner.
I firmly believe that beginning a national conversation about shifting is the only way forward. Then, and only then, can we save future generations from the horror of a bad shift.
*Lead image courtesy of scented_mirror via Flickr
The Daily Shift’s Roisin Peddle takes us through the very worst kind of shifts.
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