Thursday, August 14, 2008


Possibly it is because I have lived in rural areas for many years, and undoubtedly because, as 9 o’clock used to be the beginning of the evening, it is now a signal to get horizontal with a cup of tea and a good book to increase my chances of a great nights sleep. I am, therefore, rarely cruising my neighborhood at the darkest end of the day. So recently, when I happened to notice a young couple standing intimately huddled as far away as possible from the porch’s light, I could not help but grin. I drove home in the dark; my mind flooded with memories.

The way I remember it, if things went well, my date would walk me to my front door and we ended the evening with a kiss. Early fumbling, sometimes just a peck, and that horrific moment when I tilted my head the wrong way and my date actually “Frenched” my nostril. YUK! I suppose there are bound to be mess-ups as high school adolescents strive to win the race to carnal knowledge, in a more or less respectable manner, of course. Slutty in Sunday School clothes. I had many moments and several close calls, but there is one evening early in my dating career that I recall fondly.

I had accepted a date with Randy. He was a well muscled fellow who had been in several of my classes in high school. Randy was a jock; he played football and ran with the popular crowd although he was quieter and seemed shy. I do not remember where we went or what our date consisted of. At the end of the evening he walked me up to my front door. I am sure that my Dad had the porch light on. We kissed. He pulled me into him and kissed me harder. He had a pleasant enough face but rather thin lips. I did not have a ton of experience at this point in time and was eager to expand my limited knowledge.

He put his had behind my back and pulled me in even closer; we continued kissing. I remember wondering to myself why I had not noticed what a large belt buckle he was wearing. I was acutely aware of this buckle pressing into my flat tummy. After a respectable run at the make-out game, our embrace fell apart and we backed away from each other. Lips tingling, pulse elevated, insecurities smoldering, yet triumphant that this experiment had gone rather nicely. Blushing, we mumbled a few words and I turned to go inside. It was then that I glanced down … he wasn’t wearing a belt.

* annette

1 comment:

A Week's Worth of Women said...

That is sooooo funny! I love it.