Excuse Me Sir, You Have Been Sequestered for Your First Kiss.

My oasis from attending Bob Jones as a kid was Clearview Circle where I lived with my brother and Dad. There were woods in the back to explore, a giant tree in the backyard to climb, and Jill across the street to adore. Jill Davis was my first crush. She was the first girl that made an infection of “cooties” seem desirable. She also happened to live right across the street. Jill was everything a young rebel would want in a girl. She went to a public school, listened to secular music, went to movies, and was an early bloomer.

Jill had always known I had a crush on her. How did she know? Oh, I told her when she asked. It was before the days I knew you were supposed to deny, deny, deny. On a certain Valentine’s Day, I was hanging out with her brother and my brother. At the time, Jill was in the backyard with her friend Allison(?). Allison was that mischievous instigator that always enjoyed toying with the fact that I had a crush on Jill. That is why I was rather suspicious when she walked up to me and said Jill wanted to give me a Valentine’s Day kiss. It was one of those “punch in the nose” moments. I was dazed and stunned. After giving myself a standing eight count, I asked why. Yes, I realize when a girl wants to give you a kiss, that last thing you should ask is why. But, I had seen my TV shows, and a few movies. This isn’t really how first kisses were supposed to happen. I envisioned lowered lights, or a starlit sky. Allison simply replied “Because it’s Valentine’s Day.” Good enough for me. After receiving my instructions to meet Jill behind the playhouse, I made the trek to the back yard. I would like to say I walked with a confidence rarely seen in a man except for Cary Grant. In actuality, I was practicing kissing on my hand.

With a racing heart and slobbered hand, I finally approached the back of the playhouse. As stated, there was Jill with a slightly nervous expression. Come to think of it, her expression was more apprehension than nervous. Anyway, I shuffled up to her and said “Hey.” She replied, “Tongue or no tongue.” At that point, my brain barely got off the mat before the referee counted to ten. It should be stated that as a kid growing up, I was never one to adhere to learning curves. Perhaps I should have said “No tongue,” and worked up from there. I like jumping the first few rungs, so I said, “Tongue.” Ok. I really said “Tongue, I guess?” Though, any guy in their right mind, when presented those options, is going to say “Tongue.” Who is going to say, “No tongue?” Who?

So, I set myself as she said “Ok. Now close your eyes.” Yes, I realize now that this is a common phrase that would lead to me kissing a dog, or some other practical joke. But, my brain had already thrown in the towel awhile ago. There actually was no practical joke to follow. I got to kiss my first crush. This is what movies are made of. This is the American Dream. This was one of those first steps to being a man. Except for one thing: It sucked. Perhaps it was her nervousness/apprehension. Maybe it was my lack of experience. It could have been the awkward 2 minutes of silence that followed, after which I said, “Ok. Thanks. Uh. I’m gonna go watch Stingray.” We then just quietly backed away from the scene. That is not how I pictured my first kiss to be. How could the TV and movies lie to me? Where were the stars and fireworks? Where was the choir of angels? Was that really French kissing? I thought there was supposed to be more tongue. Anyway, that was my first awkward lip contact with the opposite sex. Weird as it was, Jill actually made up for it a couple years later. The day I moved back to Ohio Jill gave me a goodbye kiss in the storage closet at the back of our house. That was how a first kiss was supposed to be. Except I think Allison was watching. Shudder.