Never Been Kissed in Michigan: THE THRILLING CONCLUSION (Part 1)
Many, many moons ago I was one of SparkLife’s Never Been Kissed columnists. There were countless crushes. There was a smattering of close calls. There were catastrophes, confusions, and Maybe Dates, but I never quite achieved that fated face battle with someone else’s face, probably because I say things like "fated face battle." You’ll remember such notable names as That Guy (who has now grown a mustache, and it’s kind of working), the Uber Hottie (the last I saw of him was in a series of Facebook pictures in which he was standing on a mountain somewhere looking amazing), Spencer (my library crush who, by some freakish coincidence, wound up standing next to me at a concert last weekend), Ace (my prom date, we still talk), and Calvin (cute guy I met at freshman orientation).
You guys stuck with me through the trials and tribulations of prom, marching band parties I wasn’t actually invited to, Quadruple Dates, and cake balls, which couldn’t have been easy. So I think I definitely owe you guys the story of how I finally wound up doing some kissing.
But first, a RECAP. What have I been doing all this time, besides writing about fictional characters, Joseph Gordon-Levitt, and zombies? Well, not much. Studying, I guess. I got my tires rotated. Bought a new case for my iPhone so that it looks like a GameBoy. Oh, you meant boys. WELL, there have been some viable candidates, which is actually an achievement in and of itself, given how many nights per week I spend in my apartment seeing how many cheese puffs I can fit into my mouth.
There was the Cute Frat Guy Who Defied All My Expectations of Frat Guys and knew a number of interesting things about physics and Parks and Recreation. There was the Cute Guy at my Internship who wound up taking my spot when all the interns had been recruited to move heavy things around (I was elsewhere, laminating things frantically), got fiberglass in his eye, and had to go to the hospital. (I feel semi-responsible. I also broke the laminating machine.) There was also Hot Dude at the Bus Stop with Whom I Made Prolonged Eye Contact, but then the bus came and he got on, and it was over before it began. But even with this overabundance of promising suitors—through sheer apathy, laziness, and the fact that I flirt using a combination of Ghostbusters references, lame puns, and interpretive dance moves—I never got around to any kissing. I know, it’s astounding. Or is it? I mean, let’s take a look at some things I have said to actual human boys that I found attractive and could theoretically see myself kissing:
- "Would you rather cry hot glue or fart confetti?"
- "Your Lost theories are stupid and so are you."
- "Mario Kart and crushing dreams," as a response to a thinly veiled flirtatious "I’m sure you’re good at a lot of things."
But I’ve evolved. Nowadays in my flirting arsenal, I have a couple of things working in my favor: the fact that 1) I recently started using the phrase "damn skippy," 2) I speak French poorly but enthusiastically, and 3) I eat a lot of hash browns. As shocking as it sounds, all of these things would play a crucial part leading up to the momentous occasion, which was actually not so much a "first kiss" as it was a "first time making out with someone in front of a bunch of other people." If you're going to do something, it's best to just dive right in.
Like all good first kiss stories, mine involves a dash of romance, a smidgeon of adventure, some misdirection, a mild disaster, and the unenviable act of winding up stranded in an unfamiliar city three and a half hours away from home. I can only say, Sparklers, that by the end of this story your shock give way to a sort of resigned indifference. You will say, "Yeah, that sounds about right," because if I'm truly honest with myself in my heart of hearts, I always knew—and I think you did too—that my first kiss story simply could not have gone any other way.
And it all started when my friend invited me to a party on New Year’s Eve.
NOOOOOOO WE HATE CLIFFHANGERS! But we dearly love Elodie and her ability to eat an inordinate amount of breakfast potatoes, so we're going to wait here patiently until her next update. Have you missed the NBK series? Have you had any first-kiss close calls lately?