First Kiss

I've been feeling nostalgic lately (although, seriously, when am I not nostalgic? Never! To quote my favorite character from one of my favorite movies, "I'm nostalgic for things that haven't even happened yet." (Max, Kicking and Screaming)) anyhow I h ad a dream about a former friend the other night. We ran into each other in a random London Boutique. She was looking very suave and put together, I do not remember how my dream self looked. As a result of this dream I've been doing mad google searches for said friend (sans results) and I've also just been thinking of days gone by in general. And somehow just now I started to think of my first real kiss with the first boy I properly dated.

Not the boy who took me to Homecoming Junior year because (a) we did not kiss and (b) he totally caught the gay after he got out of Port Huron. Probably he caught the gay long before that and just didn't know how to let people in on it. Port Huron, shockingly, did not (and possibly still does not, if I'm basing my judgement on the high number of Ron Paul signs I saw there in November) have the most open and liberal of atmospheres. And not the boy I frenched in the back of Amy Roche's garage on a dare because I was 10 and that was gross, and also not the boy who gave me a very dry lipped peck under a sprig of mistletoe Freshman year because that kis held about as much sexual longing as a kiss from your cousin (your non-incestuous cousin that is).

So anyhow, Homecoming '93 and other misc kisses aside, I did not start dating until I was 17 years old. The first boy I dated was the 20 year old manager of the movie theater that my friends worked (a movie theater I was not allowed to go to without resorting subterfuge for its first few years of existence because it was the greatest of all evils, NON UNION!). They sort of set us up after I admitted I thought he was cute (and seriously if I had like the one photo of him on hand to scan you would be all like, what is it about large headed prematurely balding 20 year old Duran Duran fansis it that you liked so much Carolyn? And I would have no answer for you except that I was a foolish foolish girl). On our first date we went to see the movie classic Speed together. My friends mad approximately 4 checks of the theater thermostat during the movie and he held my hand.

Afterwards we went to the Super K to look at CDs (because it was open late) and we may have gone for coffee at Denny's, but we definitely ended up walking along the St Clair River with it's scenic views of the Dow Chemical Plant in Sarnia, Ontario. He smoked a cigarette, we talked about politics (he was a republican, I was firmly not a republican, just an idiot) and finally he turned to face me and took my hands in his and said, "Are your hands as cold as mine?"
And, ever the romantic, I replied, "No, but I think you want them to be." Because seriously my hands were toaty warm in the pockets of my faux fur lined black plaid trench coat.

He laughed despite my poor form and kissed me. It was not nearly so bad as that time in the back of Amy Roche's garage. It was pretty nice really. Kissing tasted like a mix of cigarettes and peppermint gum and our lips were cold. The factory lights across the river twinkled and really, despite all my sarcasm it was a fairly roomantic moment.

We dated for 3 more months until my friends discovered he'd been doing it with his ex and some girl from a party he went to the whole time we were going out. Not that he ever made any claims to being exclusive but he also never said anything about seeing other people. It was a shaky situation for awhile because my friends all still worked at the theater so I had reason to hang out there fairly often. Luckily the other managers felt bad for me because he'd been such a cad so I still got to see free movies even when I was with non-theater friends. And he ended up moving to Holland, Mi after a few months so I didn't have to worry about run ins so much. So over all, this story has a happy ending I think.

As far as first kiss stories go, I think it's pretty good. Not perfect or anything, but just awkward enough to be sweet without being cloying.

How about you, oh great nebulous internet readers? What was your first kiss like? Did you have false starts too? Were you grossed out by all that tongue action? Was it perfect in every way? I don't want to be the only nostalgic sucker around here, tell me some stories.