NoSalesTax

Two Elon alumni (2002) have pooled their talents to bring excitement and joy to your day. One is a classy woman who combines her Italian and feminine powers to influence men of all shapes and sizes. The other is a tall blond man who relies on wit and boyish good looks to impress women, especially when they're drunk. Join them in their epic pursuit of the phenomenon known as adulthood. NoSalesTax side effects may include addiction and abrupt laughter as colleagues look on in confused jealousy.

Monday, May 23, 2005

Tongue all down the throat

Life is full of disappointments, isn’t it? J-Mazz suggested I write about the worst kiss ever, and immediately a night in the fall of 1995 came to mind.
I should have known there would be a problem when the only things we had to talk about on the phone were the Rocky movies and fixing cars. I went to a soccer game to watch my dream guy sweat and kick a little butt on the field. It was a hot night and my hair was frizzy, but I was rewarded for sitting through the game when I met the dreamboat in the parking lot and he peeled off his shirt, revealing rippling muscles dripping with hard earned sweat. I saw a body that could kill, a body that could certainly kiss, no?
We got in his car, a restored and deeply loved BMW and drove to a party full of cool kids, beer and absolutely nothing interesting going on. The situation made me a tad uncomfortable, and I think he could sense that. I didn’t hang out with these people and I didn’t drink. We left, and started the drive back to my house, talking a little more about Rocky, a little more about the game.
Back in those days, I didn’t go out a lot. My parents were pretty strict, but they were always OK with me having company…so I figured the night would pick up after we went inside, he met my mom, and she went to bed. I was ready for some lip action on the ol’ family couch…
But then it happened. My dreamboat, hunka hunka burnin’ love of a boy leaned in for a kiss….and gave me what immediately just made me think of my worst kiss ever.
Can a tongue do that naturally, or does it take practice? Can a mouth have so much saliva, so much movement, so little talent? Can a hot Italian teenage boy with muscles and a killer tan really know so little about how to kiss a younger, impressionable, obsessed girl?
It was the ultimate disappointment. I squirmed for 20 seconds, letting him literally drool on my face. When he pulled away, when he removed his tongue from my tonsils, I believe I said something like, “Well, okay. Thanks. I’ll call you.”
I walked into the house and my mom was patiently waiting up, waiting to meet the super cutie I talked about the whole week.
“Well?” she asked. “Where is he?”All I could say was, “Mom, I sent him home. He is the worst kisser in the world, and I don’t want to even think about it. Goodnight.”
I guess the lesson here, is that some things are better left in our dreams. Or in our mouths. Not in someone else’s.

1 Comments:

At 3:57 PM, Blogger J-Mazz said...

Maybe he was punishing you for making him leave the party early. Just another case of a hot guy ruining things by opening his mouth.

 

Post a Comment

<< Home