Kissing 101

My first kiss occurred when I was 15. My best friend Christie invited me to a New Year's party that her friend L was co-hosting. L lived a block away from me at 101 West 75th Street. (Actually, my dad knew him from the gym). L and his co-host, M, were slightly older — maybe 18 or 19(!). The party was at M's apartment which was 102 West 76th Street. Well M took an instant liking to me. He was sort of cute with long dark, albeit mullet-y hair (it was 1980/81 you know) and facial hair, but compared to gorgeous L, he was just average. Anyway . . .

as I said M seemed to be interested in me and followed me around the apartment all during the party, trying to corner me. I went to Christie to protect me, but she was busy making out with some random guy she had just met so I was on my own. M wanted to kiss me and Christie told me I should let him (I guess she thought that if I wanted to gain experience, this was as good a place and time as any). Anyway . . .

We went into his parents' bedroom where he showed off his skills at playing Space Invaders (omglol!!! but it was 1980/81). I tried to be duly impressed. Eventually the moment of truth came. I couldn't put it off any longer, even though I knew that playing Pong would mean a few minutes reprieve (I don't have the eye/hand co-ordination needed for video games so I would have lost instantly anyway). He took me by the shoulders, lowered his head and stuck his tongue so far down my throat I could practically feel it snaking through my colon. I had the added misfortune to be facing a large mirror. There I was, watching myself getting mauled. It was a surreal, out-of-body experience. I didn't really enjoy it but at least I didn't have to worry any longer about being "sweet 16 and never been kissed" — a real fear of failure on my part, a real fate worse than death that was a few months away.

For weeks after, M would appear on my doorstep, hanging out in the lobby of my building waiting for me to get home from school. I used to call from blocks away so Mom could look out the peephole to see if he was laying in wait for me. He finally got the message and gave up waiting for me.

I know you are thinking, "why is it 'Kissing 101' if the party wasn't really at 101 W 75th?" Well, Saint Jerome came up with Kissing 101 and it sounds much better than Kissing 102.