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My first Kiss

They say that your first kiss is the one that you judge all others by, that it’s something you will always remember. They talk shit, and if it’s a rule then I am the exception to it. Fact is I cannot remember my first kiss at all, as I was, not to put too fine a point on it, rat arse wasted.

A bit of context might be useful here. At a friends 18th, and a bunch of us were round playing videogames, talking shit and boozing. Nothing new there, but the big amazing difference that marks this occasion out from a hundred other is the fact that there were women present! Now this might not seem a big deal to all you city slickers, but back home young ladies are hard to come by, and ones that would submit themselves to our company were practically non existent.

These young ladies came from the fair town of Peebles, a fairly sinister place it must be said. We met them the worst possible way-online. Or rather birthday boy did, and took a shine to one of them. I was integrated into this whole talking online crap, ands you know I’ll admit, I went for it too. I mean Christ, someone of the female persuasion to talk to that seemed interested in me. I dared hope good things might come of it.

A meet was arranged, where birthday boy hit it off with his target and I did the exact opposite with mine. She didn’t realise this however, and I was too chicken shit to be blunt about it.

Anyhow basically she wanted to hook up with me at this party, and I wasn’t keen on it. So she gets drunk and starts crying on the staircase. Now this makes me feel about as low as I can. So I drink. A LOT. Two litres of cider and half a bottle of straight vodka. The Norsk stuff that sits at about 55%. Last thing I remember was sitting on the couch in a pool of self loathing. Beyond that memory kinda fails.

What I was told however, was this. On my way to the toilet girl crying on staircase jumps up, throws me against wall and starts making out with me. And I am in absolutely no condition to say no. Apparently she had to prop me up to stop me falling.

Not long after this I pass out. This is the only time I have done so from boozing, and it stays with me to this day. You might not think it, but I am damn careful about my drink, and switch to water when things get shaky. My friends came through for me though, and dragged me upstairs to lie in the recovery position as I sleep and spew and die.

They tell me a great story when I wake. Apparently I get up halfway through the night and try and take a piss…on the TV. But what good friends I have, they run down and get a basin, and even hold me still so I don’t miss. Exactly what parts they held is something I never want to know. My friend does have a pool table in his room though, and I have this image of them using the cues like chop sticks to direct my flow from a safe distance.

And that’s how I got my first kiss. Best part was birthday boy actually ended up going out with the girl that ever so slightly sexually assaulted me. Except cause I’m a guy I have to laugh it off and not feel all violated. Sexual inequality-not just for girls.

I’ll end with a little horror story. Obviously I reeked of vomit. When I got home I showered for a year, but could still smell it on me. All day I smelled it, until I blew my nose and discovered it was hiding up there, all crusty and old.