So, I was talking to a bunch of people the other night about the topic of kissing. And we got to sharin' a bunch of kissing stories. I ended up sharing a couple of my own, one of which I intend to share now, here. Lemme tell ya interneters, I have one heck of a first kiss story, and I would be remise if I withheld such a high caliber tale. So sit back, relax, and get ready to smile. I'm about to reveal what is most likely (up to this point) my most embarrassing moment to the world.
The tale begins back in the wild and crazy days of 8th grade. I am enclosing a self incriminating photo of myself taken during the era that this experience took place for my readers to visualize the sheer embarrassment on my pubescent face. And yes, my hair looked that good. I was quite the trend setter back then, you can't tell, but I had a bull cut, coupled with that sweet slick back look. I was about as dashing as fourteen year olds come, and I only used one can of hairspray a week. Okay, stop laughing, I know I know. I looked like a young Justin Timberlake with a really bad hair stylist. It was bad. But I was worst when I was 7. Knee socks sandals, and Michael Jackson T-shirts, tucked into biker shorts. Yes, spandex. Think that's embarrassing, just wait, I'm just warming up.
So here I am at this little party. Fourteen year olds were running around the house chasing each other, you know the usual stuff that would go on at a party with a bunch of 8th and 9th graders, mass hysteria. The guys had way too much of their dad's cologne on, the girls were flirting like there was no tomorrow. No one, and I mean no one had any clue or grip on what was going on. No one was being themselves, and everyone was just trying to fit in, doing things completely against their character. Most of us didn't know what the word character meant anyway.
So as the night's adventures rolled on, the plot was about to thicken. I found myself sitting on the couch watching with wide hazel eyes as a girl ran through the room without her shirt on(bra was still intact, don't worry mom!), and a boy was flying ahead of her with her shirt, teasing her. Heh, now that I think back on that, it still makes me laugh at just how funny we all acted during that time of our lives, and how little we knew about anything.
So right after that little scene, I hear someone call my name and ask, "Do you wanna kiss?"
I turn in shock to look into the smiling face of Jennifer Fonua. She suddenly had appeared beside me on the couch. My eyes widen again. She was a cute girl, it was her house we were at, and she was known as quite the "social" butterfly, if you catch my drift. My throat sank at the proposition; my heart kicked it into 5th gear. I found myself teetering against the last inch of ground of my VL'age and I had to either jump or confront this, this, devious little girl.
I think my voice cracked as I said, "Sure."
She seemed to have expected the answer, and sat back on the couch expectantly.
My eyes blinked twice, and I moved in, rigid as a tree. So I kissed her, and thought, well this is kinda nice. The same holds true to any kiss that I've experienced since. It's often agonizing getting to the kiss, but once yer there, it's...nice. So during this kiss, I feel something I haven't ever felt before. Her tongue had invaded my mouth! Trying not to panic because my cootie alarm was going crazy, I played it as cool as possible, when I realized that it wasn't just her tongue in my mouth, her gum had made the trip as well.
This was a red alert. I don't recall much, but I think my body was turned funny, I felt my side cramp. I didn't really get into a comfortable position; I was too freaked out when I leaned over. But I continued the whole kissing thing.
And that's when it came to me. This was no mere gum. This was...Oh no I thought, my eyes popped open in sheer terror. An hour earlier, the memory of seeing my friend joking around asking if anyone wanted his gum he was chewing came to mind. And then the memory of her kissing him quickly followed. This was my friend's gum! The horror!
In mid kiss, irregardless of the ramifications, and finding stopping kissing outright was strangely nigh impossible, I said, or somewhat mumbled, "Hawf et bawk." (Translated: Have it back, for those who aren't well versed on kiss speak.) After that happened, the worst of it was far from over. I had the distinct impression that I was being watched. You know that feeling when yer coming up from the basement in the darkness, and you get this gnawing feeling that someone's down there watching you? Well it was that very same feeling. So the kiss finally ended, and when I turned to see what it was, I found myself staring into the eyes of about twenty fourteen year olds. Now my utter terror may have skewed my memory of this, but I remember them just hovering over me, literally inches from us on the couch.
And then it came from the back of the crowd. Now just hear the dude voice, deep set, mocking, "You suck at kissing!"
I swear, my face caught fire, and I just shriveled up into an embarrassed mass. It was horrible. If I had a shell I would have holed myself in for weeks. But as all fourteen year old attentions go, suddenly the group was gone, whisked away on the next thing of curiosity like a pack of sharks. They left me there without a thought.
So there you have it, my most embarrassing moment. The lessons I learned were these: One, never kiss a girl who has kissed my friend. Two, dudes suck. And three, kissing is always worth it.
Hope it was as fun for you to read as it was to experience. ;)