A First Kiss Worth Reliving, Senior Prom 1992
Some kisses are best left in the past and some are worth remembering, but some of those kisses are worth reliving. My first kiss happened many years ago…on the night of my senior prom.
Believe it or not, I felt extremely awkward in high school. I was flat-chested and the epitome of a Plain Jane. I just never felt pretty. I failed to attract any real attention from boys and not a single boy asked me out. Ever. It was no surprise that by my senior year I had yet to experience my first kiss.
Fast forward to senior prom night. I’d spent hours preparing for what was to be the. most. magical. night. of. my. life. I was perfectly coiffed, outfitted in a custom-designed little red dress and dripping in rhinestones. Suffice it to say, I looked hot. See…
Can you believe my mother let me leave the house looking like this? I was a head-to-toe hot mess! It’s no wonder I was never asked out. In fact, it was only by the grace of God and quick thinking on my Fairy Godmother’s part that I even had a date to the prom. Bully – yes, his name was BULLY- was a handsome college student, hard worker and very much a gentleman. Not at all like a bully. Most importantly, he was taller than me and he had a car.
The prom itself was uneventful and not worth getting into detail over so we’ll skip to the juicy stuff - the kiss goodnight.
I was a bundle of nerves and on the verge of explosive diarrhea right there in my parents’ driveway. While Bully was a picture of calm, I had visions of juicy poop running down my black pantyhosed legs. We exchanged pleasantries under the stars, thanking each other for a great night. And then he did it. He took a step forward, closing the gap between us and filled what was once the chasm of uncertainty – the uncertainty of a kiss, a first! kiss – with his calm, cool, professional kissing self. And there I stood, dying.
He smiled, leaned in and then it happened. He kissed me. He really kissed me and boy was he good! He knew just where to place his lips. Clearly, he’d done this before. And clearly, I hadn’t. His moist half-German half- Filipino lips pressed ever so softly against mine. I froze. I’d looked into the eyes of Medusa and turned to stone.
And then he did it. He brushed my cheek with his calloused hand. The urge to spontaneously poop all over my parents’ driveway was replaced with an electric current that surged along every inch of my body. I have reason to believe that the electric current Bully hit me with short circuited my brain. It’s the only explanation I have for what I did I next.
Like a sumo wrestler in the ring, I charged at him with reckless abandon. His lips – my opponent. I assaulted him with my tongue, attempting to force him into submission. Let me tell you, he was not submitting and he most certainly was not impressed. Having nearly suffocated the poor guy, it was no surprise that I never heard from him again.
Can you blame him? I almost killed him with my tongue.