‘Member how I said I’m going to try to answer Plinky prompts once in a while? Here’s my first effort. Today’s Plinky prompt is:
Where was your first kiss?
I have a few answers to this question because there are categories of first kisses, at least in my vast history of kissing. Ha ha. Also, I’m intentionally leaving out names because all of these male-types are related to (or friends of—or are) my Facebook friends, and in many cases I prefer not to let them know I have memories of them AT ALL, let alone semi-fond ones. Here goes:
First kiss ever: it was at my eighth grade graduation, when one guy made his way down the reception line and kissed every single female graduate, undoubtedly on a dare. He was a couple years older than me and a friend of a classmate; 
First kiss from a guy I liked: it was my sophomore year in high school during a Christmas party at school. I had a huge crush on him and he knew it, but didn’t feel the same way toward me. I think he came at me with the mistletoe because he knew I was a sure thing. We were standing at my locker just outside the classroom door and immediately after, I ran in the room to ask my girlfriends if they had seen what just happened. They hadn’t, and were totally unimpressed. Bitches. :)
First kiss from a guy who liked me back: this one was the summer before my freshman year in college. Sherilee and April, you are cordially invited to shut up right now.
First kiss from a guy I eventually married: I have pictures of Victor’s and my first kiss, which was long before we even started dating. On my 25th birthday a bunch of us went to Red Robin at Pier 55 after the Mariners game. Vic was sitting across the table from me and kept saying he had “a gift” for me, and we finally stood up and leaned across the table toward each other and kissed. It was quite lovely, even accompanied by all the hootin’ and hollerin’ from Sherrice, Karen, and April. Here’s where my brave birthday behavior reached its limit: Vic was sitting next to a guy I’d had a secret crush on for years, and I wanted so much to move down the table and say, “OK, your turn…” (Oh, come on! It was my birthday!) I didn’t, but mostly because my ex-boyfriend was sitting on the other side of him, and the guys on the other side of that guy were not what I considered kissable types. (Word to the wise: don’t date a guy in your circle of friends if you want that guy NOT to show up to every important gathering ever for the rest of your life.)
Wow. This wasn’t nearly as painful or awkward as I thought it might be. Share your own first kiss stories in a comment, please, and keep ‘em family-friendly.
Oh so sweet. That post made me smile, broadly. Especially the "summer before freshman year" memory... ah, well. It was quite the summer. And I'll say no more, because you could probably get me back bad.
ReplyDeleteSo my first kiss that counts (since I was born chasing boys, and had a few minor pecks at an ungodly early age, apparently I was raised by wolves) was my sophomore year in high school, with my "boyfriend" whom I'd been dating for a couple of months before he/we worked up the nerve and had a moment alone. Dang that highly supervised school setting... Anyway, it was somewhere in the dark hallway behind the gym. Very sweet, very "stolen moment" as we could have been walked in on, easily. But that became a pretty regular meeting up place for us that year...
OK, back to reality and being a grown up. Darn. Thanks for the little trip down memory lane.