The Sloppy Kisser

I hadn’t planned on writing any more entries this afternoon, but after my lunch experience I had to. It really wasn’t an experience, rather it was a moment that reminded me of a past experience.

The weather outside is beautiful so the boys and I intentionally chose a place that would allow us to sit outside and enjoy the sunny blue skies and all that comes with it.

It was a very pleasant, lazy sort of afternoon. I was really enjoying my slice of pizza when I noticed that the couple sitting across from me were kissing. It was hard not to notice because she was trying to taste his tonsils, or maybe she was just trying an alternative to the Heimlich maneuver. I am not really sure, I just know that she was really going after him.

And then suddenly the memory hit me. I was around 20 and at a party. It is around 11 and I have been speaking with this girl for at least an hour or so. We have had a very nice conversation and I can’t stop staring at her eyes. They are bright blue and against her black hair they really stick out.

At some point I do the proverbial lean in and kiss her once on the mouth. She kisses me back and we spend a few minutes against the wall holding each other. With a coy smile she grabs my hand and leads me into a room.

Inside the room she pushes me against the wall and attacks me. I couldn’t be happier. I am with an attractive girl who is not afraid to be aggressive. As I think of the possibilities a huge smile breaks across my face, like a wave crashing across the shore. It must have been really obvious because she stopped kissing my neck to tell me that she felt wild.

Moments later we are lying on a couch and we are frantically kissing. Ok, that is not really true. She is kissing me with a ton of emotion and effort. I can hear loud slurping noises and little squeals that sound like they are pleasurable. I should be happy but I am not.

I am not because I suddenly realize that the side of my face feels like it has just been licked by a St. Bernard and am dumbfounded by this.

Is she drooling on me? What the heck is going on? And then there are the sounds, oh the sounds that grab my attention and hold it, but not in a good way. I am focused on them, locked in like a laser beam. It is more like an irritating hum and instead of feeling like a porn star I feel like I am being embraced by a washing machine.

I want to get up and run but I feel badly, I don’t move because I am not sure what to do. She sense my discomfort and asks if everything is ok. I feel guilty and a little bit embarrassed that I was thinking about leaving. Maybe she hasn’t kissed that many men, or maybe she is nervous. I did kiss her first.

Then I realize that she has just wiped her face. It was subtle, but I saw the hand go across the mouth. Now I am concerned that she might think that I am the bad kisser. She might think that I am the sloppy one and my fragile male ego can’t handle that.

So I switch styles and resume the kissing but now we are totally out of sync, assuming that we were ever in. I am pulling when she is pushing and she is going up when I am going down. No rhythm, leads to a feeling of no chemistry and for the first time in my life I really feel badly about what I am doing.

I try to turn off my brain, try not to overthink things. But it is not working. This should be a Seinfeld episode but the show doesn’t exist yet.

I’d tell you more but apparently while I was lost in my reverie I managed to spill some grease from my pizza on my shirt so I need to go clean it off. Great, nothing like walking around the office with evidence of my eating habits.

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