Mary Richert, @notitles, is one of the writers I follow.
She recently put up a video of her reading some of her work, Memories of Kissing. It’s really good. She talks about how one learns to kiss, first kisses, that sort of thing.
This got me thinking about my first kiss.
I believe it was the summer between the third and fourth grade, or maybe the next.
I can’t remember how it all came about, but I do remember the girl. She lived a couple of blocks from me. She wasn’t my girlfriend or anything. It was just decided that we would kiss at a particular time and place.
The time was after school and the place was my garage.
Somehow word got around the neighborhood, so there was a small audience in my garage that afternoon. Once she arrived with a few of her friends, all gathered around for the big event.
I was very nervous, but I convinced myself to walk over to her, close my eyes, and give her a quick peck on the lips.
Then I ran out of the garage and around the house.
I don’t remember ever discussing with her what happened that day. There were no subsequent lip touchings between us.
She was a very smart student and kind of awkward. She didn’t get much traction with the guys in junior or high school, as I remember. I’m guessing they were paying more attention to the more glamorous girls.
We all graduated from high school and went our separate ways in 1986.
In 1990, I was attending Oklahoma State University and one afternoon I went by Eskimo Joe’s to get a burger and have a beer.
And of course you already know who I saw there.
Little miss garage kiss from my neighborhood had grown up to be this beautiful young lady. She was into all sorts of campus activities including student government. She was surrounded by friends including lots of guys who were staring at her and hanging on her every word.
She seemed quite happy. She said she was happy and things were going very well for her. Unlike me, she graduated.
I don’t know where she is today and for the life of me I cannot remember her name.
🙂
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