Oh, for the love of a kiss...
I was recently reminded of a silky and sublime line written by one of my greatest loves, Robbie Burns himself. "Love is the alpha and omega of human enjoyment." Does it get much truer than that? Thank God for all those who embody it in their very core.
I was driving into work with a friend recently and we broke up the monotony of the moving parking lot otherwise known as the Don Valley PARKway and drizzly weather with a light-hearted conversation about morning talk-radio shows. My friend then told me that the subject on her fave station this morning was about first kisses. "Cool", I thought to myself. "Who doesn't love a first kiss?"
But unfortunately, I didn't see where the conversation was heading and while I was distracted with some delicate navigating around the essentially parked cars and rain ahead of me, she asked me, "What was your first kiss like?" Unfortunately for me, my reflex response was "With who?"
Um, okay Liz. Nice move. Way to paint yourself with a brush of a different colour, a sharp hue of red at that. After I accurately read my friend's cocked-up eyebrow and quizzical look to indicate I'd made an embarrassing error in my understanding, I realized, whoops...got it...first kiss....period.
I could see that the only way to dig myself out of that particularly sticky situation was to come clean and tell her the whole truth about a far more crushing embarrassment; that which was my first kiss. (Not counting the litany of poor boys I used to chase around in public school telling them "secrets" as I kissed their ears or other unique strategies I employed to learn a little about the art of the kiss. But I digress, and shame myself further.)
My first "romantic" kiss is truly a unique story. Or at least I hope it is, for the sake of all the innocents out there who brave the unknown, the mortal dread of rejection and the all-out blinding white fear laced with a rushing thrill causing your heart to beat in your ears that is involved with taking that first step towards the alpha and omega of human enjoyment.
The best thing that came out of my first kiss was, well, the story. All due respect to the very poor soul who had to share that journey with me. I remember it as if it were yesterday, though there are many yesterdays in between. Tragically, I don't remember the kiss with the digital accuracy that I do because of the actual kiss, but rather the circumstance and the fallout thereof.
My first kiss came about during a summer of discovery in my 15th year. My family was staying up north at the cottage where I had spent every summer since birth, and since my family had a nasty nomadic tendency resulting in a procession of new schools each year, my girlfriends at the cottage were among the closest I had. They’d all been with me since the very beginning and shared a sense of history that as of yet I had not acquired anywhere else and the adventures that we got into together could easily rival those of our male counterparts in Steven King’s “Stand by Me”. Minus the corpse of course.
In any case, this was the first summer in which we all started to pay studied attention to the boys that also summered up north with us. And there were no shortage of venues in which to explore that whole new world. We teased them mercilessly at the tennis club. We shouted out flirtatious jibes their direction as we jumped off of “Red Rock” into the lake. We stood far, far away from them affecting as much disinterest as possible while watching their every move at the weekend dances and we “grudgingly” allowed them to skate beside us at the roller rink. It’s actually a small miracle that they paid any attention to us at all considering our behaviour, but somehow, our amateur attempts at reverse psychology worked and before we knew it, we had started pairing off, one by one.
My particular beau was a tall, gangly, metal-mouthed, nearly albino and acne-riddled 16 year old named Chris. But he made me laugh relentlessly and that has always been the surest way to cause the illusion of having George Clooney’s arresting good looks in my eyes. So I was smitten at the start. Plus I was a sucker for the attention, even if it did come in the form of love letters that had drowned in Ralph Lauren "Polo", so I was all over going out on a date with Chris like a fat kid on a Smartie.
Since my Dad was smarting from losing out on the battle to keep me from dating until I reached my thirties, I was given a strict curfew of 10:00pm. After traveling around with Marty McFly and Doc Brown in a suped up DeLorean, Chris got me home in good time and we sat on the porch to chat while my parentals had their friends over to celebrate the arrival of yet another Friday as a fine excuse to whoop it up yet once again.
The porch was on the front of the house, which was adjoined to the living room in which my parents and all their friends were sharing a few libations. It was extremely dark outside, so Chris and I felt secluded enough to enjoy each other’s company even though we were but centimeters away from the party. We both knew where it was heading, but struggled through the awkward niceties of polite conversation first. The whole time, I was anxiously wondering how the heck that mouth full of metal was going to work in the process. And finally, it was time.
Chris leaned in; the tin leading the charge for my mouth. I “braced” myself for the kiss and after a little clumsy tilting of our heads, our lips met. There was a quiet moment in time in which I was trying to figure out what all the fuss was about. It was kind of wet, sloppy, awkward, and had a bit of a tinny after-taste. Worse yet, neither of us seemed to really know what to do with our hands. As far as I'd been led to believe, (remember, I was extremely naive since I did not have the likes of Britney Spears and Brats to help guide the way) this was supposed to be a pivotal moment that would propel me in to womanhood faster than you could say underwire, but I was still trying to get my head around it.
In the midst of some bungling attempts at creating heat where there was only pure trepidation, we heard a sound as if a baseball stadium was just lit and then in that instant, where there was once darkness, we were flooded with light.
Holding Chris in my arms, my hands touching his back and head and engaged in a full on lip lock, we both became acutely aware that we were no longer alone. Pulling away to assess what had changed, I quickly realized that my brother was standing on the porch behind us with a couple friends and holding an industrial-sized flashlight, turned on us like a spotlight from the moon above.
My senses flooded back into sharp awareness and I realized that everyone in the room next to us had not failed to observe the game of tonsil hockey that was going on beside them. And to my horror....many were having a good old fashioned belly laugh at our expense. Perhaps it was the Johnny Walker they'd enjoyed or our feeble attempts at romance, I'll never know, but I'll never forget either.
And in a slow motion fallout of what felt like hours but was more like a nano-second, Chris released himself from our embrace and ran like Forrest Gump down the street to the safety of darkness and obscurity. Left on the porch with my Irish capillaries fired up crimson red and my heart pounding in my chest, I also started to run, but it was decidedly in the direction of my brother and with the keen intent to kill or at the very, very least, to pummel and maim.
Oddly, I never did see poor Chris again. But my brother now has a much treasured story that he never fails to share given the opportunity. And even better, so do all my parent's friends.
I am lucky my first kiss did not permanently scar me, in fact, it did anything but. I seem to have been hell bent ever since to get as many do-overs as I can. Because even though that first kiss was fraught with all the clumsiness that one would expect in young teens, I have had great fun learning that it sure gets better with practice. Miles and miles better. Alpha and Omega better.
And that is what leads me to this. One of the perks not pairing off too early in life has left me with many opportunities to indulge in that awful, delicious awkwardness of a first kiss, over and over and over. There is a thrill that will never be lost on me that involves someone new and a whole set of unique and sometime surprising circumstances. (And I wonder why I'm still single?)
Oh for the love of a kiss. And there are so many kinds. There's the one where someone caresses your face just before you both lean in for that awaited first kiss. Or that kiss that takes you by surprise because you had so much interest in someone, you spent most of your time avoiding eye contact so as to not give away what you're thinking. Or even better, that kiss that follows your probing stare of desire so as to ensure that there is no misunderstanding of your intent. There's the kiss of careful exploration of a friendship taking a new direction, and the kiss of urgent and heart-pounding need. The kiss on the cheek of a dear friend that's given almost as if a wish or a promise for the future. The kiss of comfort and solace given in sympathy or understanding. The kiss given to bring you back from a nasty shock like a fall from a pedestal. Or the kiss given after a competitive situation or a fight that gives way to the fire burning inside that got you there in the first place.
But I'll never forget that metal mouth and neither will any of my parent's friends or my pesky little brother. So when it's all said and done, it's just like they say, you'll never forget your first.
I may not be very lucky in love, but I'll never regret a single first kiss since they all keep the magic of life so very alive and exciting.
I'm interested. What was your first kiss like? Was it a buss, canoodle, snog, peck or smooch? Was it hot, cold, flat, or did it leave you breathless? Perhaps the brave will share a story or two. It'd be nice to have someone entertain me for a while! ;) And here's to hoping in particular that we'll hear from some of the Y-chromosomes out there....that's a perspective that would really be enlightening.
Don't let me down, I just want your extra time and your....kiss.
Muah!
0 comments:
Post a Comment