I don't
remember my
first kiss with my first
girlfriend, but we only
dated for a month, and she turned out to be a
psycho bitch, so I won't talk about that.
What I
will talk about is my first
kiss with my most recent
girlfriend, which
I remember like it was yesterday. It was our first actual
date. We had been on a
double date with her
friend and a
scary guy from our
mutual place of employment, and decided to go to a
dance together, but this was a
real date. We spent the day
rollerblading around
Lake Calhoun in
Minneapolis, and had a nice
dinner at
Applebee's. Afterwards we
rented a couple of
movies and went to her house, and watched them
in her room.
There was
incredible sexual tension while we watched
Tin Cup, but we were both too
nervous to do anything but
hold hands. I
mustered up enough
courage to
kiss her as the
credits started rolling, and we
made out until the tape ran out. After the
TV went all
static-y, we took a
time-out to put
Twelve Monkeys in the
VCR, watched about
five minutes of it, and began to
make out again. This lasted well unto the
wee hours of the morn -- nothing but
kissing,
caressing, and
conversation.
It was one of the happiest days of my life. It started a
long,
wonderful,
difficult relationship that ended only a
few days ago.
Now she is seeing some
Japanese guy. I am very
depressed.