Wednesday, March 22, 2006

One More for the Road

Believe it or not (but you should believe it), I was not the coolest 10th grader in the history of 10th grade students. Throughout middle school I was known as a "schoolgirl", and the fact that I had won "Best Overall Girl" for three consecutive years (I think, at least two) of middle school didn't exactly help my coolness factor. I wore brown glasses that were way too big for my face, cried if I got a "B" on a test (which didn't happen often, mind you), and earned the moniker "Poodlegirl" for my poofy permed hair (yes, including permed bangs). I didn't find out until my Senior year of high school that I was called this, nor that I was the girl equivalent of the most disgusting girlfriend prospect that the popular boys would torture each other with. Observe:

Popular Boy #1: "Dude, you are so dorky."
Popular Boy #2: "Shut up, Dude, I am not...YOU are!"
PB#1: "Nuh're so dorky, I bet [Me Over Here] is your girlfriend and you kiss her everyday!"
PB#2: "Dude, that's SO not cool. Take it back."

So began the torturous journey that was my middle school/early high school experience.

Because I couldn't shake this reputation, I had no chance with the shallow but popular boys I dreamt about being my boyfriends. So, I took what I could get. Consequently, what follows is the story of my first kiss.

Fast forward to me in 10th grade (about 15 years old) whining yet again in one of my classes about how I'd never have a boyfriend. A girl in my class suggested I consider dating one of her twin brothers, older than me, used to go to the same school, but had recently moved to a neighboring town. Because I was desperate to validate my femininity, I told her I'd think about it and get back to her. Well, not 2 days later, I had one of the Twins calling me up at my house and asking me if I'd like to go rollerblading in a park near his town. (Leave me alone, it was the '90s)

After obtaining a signed permission slip from my parents to go on a very unofficial "date", Twin picked me up and we began our 45-minute drive to the park. Along the way, we passed by a building that looked like a large castle from a fairy tale.

Twin: "See that building?"
Me, shyly: "MmmHmm"
Twin: "I belong to the group that meets there."
Me: "Really? What group?"
Twin: "[blah blah] Masonry Knights [something blah blah]"
Me, not knowing what he's saying: "That's so cool!"

So, that was Weird Incidence #1.

Rollerblading was, well, all that rollerblading could be: uneventful and clumsy. After that, we played Laser Tag, and after getting nice and sweaty and stinky, we settled into a theater to watch a movie (this was a full-service date, I'll give him that!). Not gonna lie--there was some hand-holding during the movie, and because things were going seemingly well, I got a little flip-flop butterfly feeling in my tummy.

The movie ended with just enough time to get me home to make my curfew. As Twin spouted off some incoherent blather about the stars and their alignment, one thought consumed my mind: What if, just what if, he tries to kiss me?

I'd never been kissed before. Frankly, it's scared the piss out of me. What if it hurt? What if I was horrible at it? What if I didn't like it and would therefore be scarred for the rest of my life? Looking back, I understand that my first kiss was a pivotal moment in my life, but really, what was I so stressed out about?

I was snapped out of my panic-state when this declaration floated to my ears from Twin's Rubbish Mouth: "You know, [Me Over Here]...I could change your life if you let me."

Weird Incidence #2. I should have spotted it there. But, still consumed with thoughts of lip locks, I giggled nervously and said something to the effect of "cool" or "neat" or "okay". I know I still have insecurity and self-confidence issues now, but good Lord--back then, I would have let anyone convince me to do anything!

Anyway, as we neared my neighborhood, and my heightened state of panic reached chart-topping levels, I decided to be proactive and simply be honest with him. Which made me even more nervous. But it was either this, or put myself in a compromising position, so I opted for Option A. As we pulled in front of my house, I began:

Me: "[Twin], can I talk to you about something?"
Twin: "I am an open door." (or something equally corny)
Me: "Well, it's just that, um...I've never, you know...kissed anyone before. Andnotlikeyouwereplanningonkissingme
butifyouwereI'mnotsureI'mreadyforthat! (because I talk a lot and quickly when I'm nervous).
Twin: "Okay..."
Me: "It's just that, you know, I'm kinda scared to kiss someone, and I don't know if I'm ready to just yet, and I like you, but I think I should wait." (because I'm a prude)
Twin: "I won't do anything you're not comfortable with."
Me (relieved): "Okay, thank you so much for understanding!"

Pretty clear, right? I thought so, too.

Feeling a sense of relief and inner calmness, I sat, heartbeat slowing to a normal speed, and waited for him to walk around and open the car door for me. All in all, Weird Incidences aside, it had been a fun date with a reasonably nice guy, so I had decided that if he felt the same, I would agree to a second date. I was already getting excited at the prospect of THAT being my very first kiss ever!

Twin walked me to the start of my sidewalk, close to his car, and put his arms around me. Super, thinks I, he's going to give me a goodnight hug. What I got was far, far from a hug.

He kissed me. And not just a small peck on the lips. He came at me with his tongue. His tongue which was already out of his mouth as he swooped into my face. Before I had time to react, I felt his nasty, slimy lips on mine, and his tongue plunging around in my mouth like he was trying to tongue-mix a milkshake. And did his nasty mouth appendage stay in MY mouth? Nope. I swear, it had a mind of its own, and felt the need to explore, with saliva as its lubrication, my upper and lower lip, the little bridge thing between my nostrils, my chin, and yes, my left cheek. When he was done, I felt like I'd been slimed.

I didn't react. How could I? I was in a state of shock. Did I, or did I NOT JUST TELL HIM I WASN'T READY TO BE KISSED?!?!? Assface gave me a goofy smile.

Because I was so unsure of myself, I didn't slap him or use the choice words I was not allowed to say in my parent's or teacher's presence. Instead, I said, "Well, it's my curfew time, I should go in."

I turned to walk away, when I heard him say, "Wait". Then, I felt his hand on my arm, and in a lanky maneuver, he spun me around and grabbed me by the waist--a position I was all to familiar with now. And then he said, and I poo you not:

"One more for the road."

What the hell did that....SLIMED AGAIN!! He was "kissing" me for a second time, using extra spit and covering a larger surface area before. When he released, I was more in shock than the first time, so I just turned around and walked toward my front door. I can vividly remember the distinct smell of foreign spit lingering on my upper lip and yes, actually IN my nostrils this time. I can also recall the first though as I fell onto my bed that night: If this was what kissing consisted of, I never, ever, under ANY circumstance, wanted to do it again.

Needless to say (but I'm going to say it anyway), I declined Spitty Twin's invitation for a second date, and never spoke to him again. Luckily for me, the next kiss I experience was actually really pleasant, and although my first kiss makes for a good story, I will always be disappointed that it wasn't the fireworks-popping moment I imagined it would be in my pre-teen years. One positive result of that dreaded first kiss was the fear I implanted in my mind of becoming such a crappy kisser...I resolved that I would never leave a crusty layer of spit around some poor guy's mouth (or any other facial features), and because of that oath, I am (so I've been told) a great kisser.

I wonder where Twin is now. Probably somewhere lubing up a defenseless girl's nostrils with the vile smelling saliva that I'm sure he deems something like his "sure-fire, life changing, sex-getting ace in the hole". Assface.

Insignificance Conveyed @ 2:46 PM   14 GabbyGabbers

14 "Sure was sweet of you to drop in":

At 4:26 PM, Blogger Tim-tambolini "told me"

Very funny story. Makes me want to share my first-kiss story too. It was many moons ago, but much more pleasant than yours...I got kissed by a very nice boy who was already experienced in kissing and he was very good!

"Sex and the City" has an episode where Charolotte dates a kisser like Twin. It was very funny and the guy actually thought he was a good kisser. ICK!

At 7:02 PM, Blogger Cleavers "told me"

When the first guy I kissed (who was 3 years older than me at 17) suddenly stuck his tongue in my mouth, I yelp, bit his tongue and ran off. We were on holiday at the time and so the next day, when I was at a kids clown show, babysitting my brother, a friend of the boy stood up at the back of the show and shouted so that everyone could hear - including my family - that his friend loved me and wanted to kiss me again.

I didn't kiss another boy for 2 years.

At 4:32 AM, Blogger Huw "told me"

That sounds like a great date! Laser Tag?! Seems to me, he was entitled to do as he pleased.

At 6:15 AM, Blogger LĂ©onie "told me"

"I can vividly remember the distinct smell of foreign spit lingering..."

Oh yuck. That is so disgusting. So very disgusting. Yuck yuck.

Great post, though!

On my first kiss he bit the sides of my mouth until they were raw, tried to stick his hand down my, um, hotpants (I... have no excuse for that) and then looked at me, head to one side, and said
"not bad for a first time."
Ah, Lewis from Radlett. Such a charmer.

Like you, I resolved never to do it again. And I haven't.

Well, maybe once or twice.

(Oh, and how could you have been a dork? You're so pretty!)

At 6:35 AM, Blogger Simon Swinbank "told me"

My first kiss was with a girl I'd been close friends with for years. She got into a fight and was losing in a big way, so I stepped in and gave her time to run away.

Later that night, I went to see if she was ok and she kiss me on the cheek as a thank you and then we kissed properly. I don't know how far we'd've gone because her elder sister interrupted us.

At 8:16 AM, Blogger Lauren "told me"

So funny!! I seem to remember my first kiss being a bit sloppy/slimy, too. Oh, the hurdles of adolescence. Isn't it nice to be done with that? Kissing is so much more enjoyable now.

I wonder if ANYONE actually experiences "fireworks" during their first kiss? I can't imagine how.

At 9:34 AM, Blogger trishy "told me"

My first kiss was with a guy who I learned 8 years later was about the world's BIGGEST creep. (If you recall my few mentions of a broken engagement a few years back, you've got the right guy)

Anyway, when we dated the first time, I was 14 and he was 17. We, too, went rollerblading (gosh I love the 90's) then ate Mexican food, and the kiss followed that. It was a slimy, nasty kiss with Mexican infused saliva and about made me vomit.

I have been a BIG fan of brushing teeth ever since then.

At 12:27 AM, Blogger Huw "told me"

Might I just add, when I was 15 and trying to get girls to kiss me, advances towards the more kissable ladies were often spurned on their part in favour of older guys with cars.

This tale gives me some faith that said girls occasionally got their comeuppance.

At 11:53 AM, Blogger OldHorsetailSnake "told me"

Hoo boy. I wanna test this theory in Vegas.

At 3:02 PM, Blogger Chris "told me"

Kissing is a lot better now

generally because it precedes a hand job or something better.

At 7:18 AM, Blogger Rob West "told me"

I was wondering, what ever happened to the dead art of nostril-kissing?

I think I'm going to bring it back.

At 1:35 AM, Blogger Curly "told me"

I kissed a girl once.

At 8:39 PM, Blogger Crystal "told me"

Ha! I laughed out loud out this post. I had a very similar first-kiss experience. It was so horrible, I didn't kiss another guy for a whole year. Then, when I'd had enough Boonesfarm at some Pasture Party, I kissed some guy and it kicked ass. That's how I became a kissing whore. Lovely story.

At 4:05 PM, Blogger Lucy "told me"

Oh you Americans and your "dates"! What's wrong with underage drinking in a local park, being sick in a bush and getting walked home by a weirdo?



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