- the Sardine
- the Toilet Bowl
- the Prize-fighting Dentist
The other part of the reason is just bad, bad, horrible, awful experiences that pretty much left me turned off of kissing, possibly forever.
The first guy to ruin kissing for me was the Sardine. He snuck up behind me, yanked my head back using a fist full of my hair, and shoved something that felt like a stiff and angry sardine into my mouth. Turns out it was his tongue. I couldn’t even kiss him back because I was too busy trying not to gag. In the middle of this assault, I noticed two of his friends watching which pissed me off. I gave him an elbow to the throat and ran off.
He later confessed that his friends told him to kiss me to prove I was really his girlfriend. He had the nerve to tell me that I was a bad kisser. We broke up shortly thereafter.
I really liked the second guy so despite our horrific first attempt at kissing I foolishly kept trying. I just assumed that when I said, “kiss me” he thought I said, “wash my face with your tongue.”
Just writing this is making my face feel itchy and disgusting.
I told my sister. Maybe the sardine was right and I was a bad kisser.
“No, no, it’s not you. the first guy was too dry and pointy-tongued, and this one’s too wet and limp. But you can fix that if you want to.”
She explained the gentle art of correction. During a playful moment, I should hold his face between my hands and begin to kiss him the way I wanted to be kissed and then slowly take my hands away from his face. She swore that it worked every time.
I don’t know if I took my hands away too soon or what because as soon as I let go of his face I felt my head being flushed down a toilet. Around and around, just swirls and swirls of (foul smelling) water all over my face.
I was so taken aback and I pulled away and said, “Never, ever put your lips on my face again. Everything over the neck is off limits from here on out. Get it?”
For the duration of our fairly long relationship I never kissed him again. No one ever believes that, but it’s not as impossible as you might think.
The third guy to put the final nail in the kissing coffin was a very sweet guy. He was a little older than me(about 30 years older) and very handsome. A few specks of grey in his hair; good height and mostly thin but with just enough of a paunch for me to know he would appreciate my culinary skills (barely perceptible to the naked eye, but I look for these things: think Michael Jackson in "Rock My World." Hotness!). He had a great smile and really nice lips. He was smart and funny and he was the first guy in a long time to talk to me without it being more than just conversation. I felt comfortable enough to tell him about my bad experiences and insecurity, and he didn’t laugh. At some point he asked to kiss me and I agreed with one stipulation: no tongue.
He leaned in and I closed my eyes.
Then I popped them right back open. Is he kissing me or punching me?
I thought he was going to rearrange my teeth using the sheer pressure of his mouth. Is this a kiss or dental work?
I pulled away and he smiled like something wonderful had just happened.
And that was the end of him.
And the end of me.
That was years ago, and I haven’t kissed another guy since. I won’t even let a guy kiss me on the cheek for fear that he might try to sneak one in.
I still don’t know if it was bad luck or poor skill but I guess now it’s been too many years since I’ve tried, and I’m too “old” to say I’m inexperienced.
It’s the truth, but who would believe it?
So there it is: proof- if you need it- that I've never really been kissed. I've been stabbed in the mouth, flushed down a human toilet, and the unwilling recipient of cosmetic surgery, but no kissing. I guess maybe the lesson in all this is… heck, I don’t know. There has to be something I learned from this….
Maybe kissing really does just suck and everyone is just saying it’s great because they think they’re supposed to. Kind of like dating, marriage, kids and beer drinking. They’re all considered social norms, but just because they’re “normal” doesn’t mean they’re fun, enjoyable, or even good for you. And yet, somehow I find myself slightly curious about the "joy" in them. Hmm.
Minnie Riperton's "Perfect Angel" is one of my all time favorite songs ever, so I would be inclined to shoot down any attempt at a remake.
Except this one.
And the original in case you only recently left your cave dwelling.
Still reading? And now, Three Guys I Totally Wouldn’t Mind Practicing on If They Weren’t Famous (or “taken”) Just Based on the Lips Alone.
It was hard to choose since there are few things in the world that visually stimulate me more than the lips of a black man, but these are my consistent favorites
Jay Z – perfect for nibbling on ~ or being nibbled by. And what a great smile. Tons of pics online of him smiling. Happy guys are hot!
Diddy ~ Perfect all around size and shape. They look great closed and serious, or open and smiling.
Pharrell ~ Considering how much he smiles when he talks, it was hard to find smiling pictures online. Anyhoo, the shape here is so ridiculously perfect, they look drawn. If I had a fetish (and I’m not confessing to anything) I’d totally put lipstick on him. And sniff his armpits.... But I don’t have a fetish!!
Honorable mention: Kanye West. If I just saw Kanye’s lips sitting on a table, I would probably pick them up and take them with me, but they would probably be saying very weird things to me, so then I’d have to put them back.