First Kisses
Everyone remembers their first kiss. Mine was Jenny Garner, it was the 4th grade, we were playing on the playground and she pinned me in the grass and planted a wet one on my face. I think her posse of girl friends dared her to do it. Up until middle school I felt that kissing me was an initiation right, a result of a dare, or the price of a lost bet. It wasn’t until I was getting ready for High School that I experienced my first First Kiss.
I had been “dating” Andy for a couple of months. (Read: being dropped off at the movies by her parents, or being dropped off at her house then picked up by my older brother type dating). If we had gone to the same school we would have had lunch together and held hands in the hallways. It was one of those cute relationships where you learn a lot about yourself and the mechanics of maintaining a relationship. After watching a movie at her house I walked down the block to my brother’s girlfriend’s house to wait for him to take me home. It was nice because he was conventienly dating Andy’s best friend at the time so there were always double dates, and he could drive. I call it my first kiss, because it is the first time that I kissed a girl and my stomach dropped into my shoes and I got goose bumps all along my spine. My ears felt like they were going to drop off my head and my fingers went numb, all at once. Those are what first kisses are. My first First Kiss was all the more memorable because it had a line.
“So this is goodnight for tonight eh?” said I.
“Looks like it, call me tomorrow when you get out of school,” said she.
“Can I ask you a question?” said I.
“Sure,” said she, (and I wiped my palms on my pants, why the fuck do your palms sweat?)
“Do you think I am kissable?” I shit you not I actually said this
“Sure,” she said.
“Prove it.” And we did the slow lean in and kissed. It was hot. I was (still am …) such a dork.
Then there is the second First Kiss. Andy and I are still friends and she still gives me shit for my line. But we didn’t work out, cause we were in the 9th grade, and neither of us wanted to get married, so we decided that it was best to see other people. The second First Kiss was with Jana, Jana was a particularly poor tennis player, but we would always play and I would let her win, usually just enough so she would keep playing with me. It was after a match we were laying on the clay court staring up at the sky, it was night, my parents had turned the court lights off, and there were serious stars. A side-note, I am from Wyoming and out west there are stars, serious, serious, stars a real sight to behold. Anyways, we were on the court and she was saying that it was so nice of me to let her win, I of course, replied that I never let her win that she is getting better at the game. She tells me to “shuddup.” I smile. She looks over and says, “you know what would make this perfect? If you would just kiss me.” God I am such a sucker for a girl with a line… so we kissed, and the stomach dropped, the toes went numb, and I am pretty sure I sprouted chest hair right then and there with the ferocity of the goose bumps.
Then the third First Kiss. CK was my brother’s friend, I took her to the prom because it was two days away and I didn’t have a date. My brother assured me that she was excellent playing the clutch position and wouldn’t turn me down. He was right. I missed dinner, showed up late to the dance, and looked like a wreck, she was totally annoyed. We went to a friend’s house afterwards, swam in the pool and soaked in the hot tub; we ended up crashing on her couch for the evening. A couple weeks later I called her up and asked if she wanted to go to a movie, she accepted and we had a good time. After a couple more innocuous dates we were standing outside and I am going in for the good night hug, it lingers a little bit longer, the stars dim a little bit, and she goes in with the head tilt, and the third First Kiss happens. As happened before I lose control of most bodily functions right there and I am rendered useless.
Since then, no more First Kisses, they are rare to come by. You don’t find them in bars. You don’t find them at Art Galleries. You don’t find them at the Opera or the Ballet. You don’t find them hanging out in Central Park. I am afraid that there is something about New York that sucks the First Kiss out of everyone. I can only hope that I get more than three First Kisses in my lifetime; I am too young to be at the end. My hope is that New York has spared a few of First Kisses in someone somewhere.
I had been “dating” Andy for a couple of months. (Read: being dropped off at the movies by her parents, or being dropped off at her house then picked up by my older brother type dating). If we had gone to the same school we would have had lunch together and held hands in the hallways. It was one of those cute relationships where you learn a lot about yourself and the mechanics of maintaining a relationship. After watching a movie at her house I walked down the block to my brother’s girlfriend’s house to wait for him to take me home. It was nice because he was conventienly dating Andy’s best friend at the time so there were always double dates, and he could drive. I call it my first kiss, because it is the first time that I kissed a girl and my stomach dropped into my shoes and I got goose bumps all along my spine. My ears felt like they were going to drop off my head and my fingers went numb, all at once. Those are what first kisses are. My first First Kiss was all the more memorable because it had a line.
“So this is goodnight for tonight eh?” said I.
“Looks like it, call me tomorrow when you get out of school,” said she.
“Can I ask you a question?” said I.
“Sure,” said she, (and I wiped my palms on my pants, why the fuck do your palms sweat?)
“Do you think I am kissable?” I shit you not I actually said this
“Sure,” she said.
“Prove it.” And we did the slow lean in and kissed. It was hot. I was (still am …) such a dork.
Then there is the second First Kiss. Andy and I are still friends and she still gives me shit for my line. But we didn’t work out, cause we were in the 9th grade, and neither of us wanted to get married, so we decided that it was best to see other people. The second First Kiss was with Jana, Jana was a particularly poor tennis player, but we would always play and I would let her win, usually just enough so she would keep playing with me. It was after a match we were laying on the clay court staring up at the sky, it was night, my parents had turned the court lights off, and there were serious stars. A side-note, I am from Wyoming and out west there are stars, serious, serious, stars a real sight to behold. Anyways, we were on the court and she was saying that it was so nice of me to let her win, I of course, replied that I never let her win that she is getting better at the game. She tells me to “shuddup.” I smile. She looks over and says, “you know what would make this perfect? If you would just kiss me.” God I am such a sucker for a girl with a line… so we kissed, and the stomach dropped, the toes went numb, and I am pretty sure I sprouted chest hair right then and there with the ferocity of the goose bumps.
Then the third First Kiss. CK was my brother’s friend, I took her to the prom because it was two days away and I didn’t have a date. My brother assured me that she was excellent playing the clutch position and wouldn’t turn me down. He was right. I missed dinner, showed up late to the dance, and looked like a wreck, she was totally annoyed. We went to a friend’s house afterwards, swam in the pool and soaked in the hot tub; we ended up crashing on her couch for the evening. A couple weeks later I called her up and asked if she wanted to go to a movie, she accepted and we had a good time. After a couple more innocuous dates we were standing outside and I am going in for the good night hug, it lingers a little bit longer, the stars dim a little bit, and she goes in with the head tilt, and the third First Kiss happens. As happened before I lose control of most bodily functions right there and I am rendered useless.
Since then, no more First Kisses, they are rare to come by. You don’t find them in bars. You don’t find them at Art Galleries. You don’t find them at the Opera or the Ballet. You don’t find them hanging out in Central Park. I am afraid that there is something about New York that sucks the First Kiss out of everyone. I can only hope that I get more than three First Kisses in my lifetime; I am too young to be at the end. My hope is that New York has spared a few of First Kisses in someone somewhere.
posted by Godot at 1:14 PM
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