Without the terrific technological tool that is Twitter, I might have gone through the entirety of my life blissfully unaware of such holidays as International Coffee Day, National Gay square-dancing Day, and National Kissing Day, which is apparently celebrated today.
In my experience, I have very little reason to actually celebrate saliva swapping. If there were a tonsil hockey team, I’d be on the bench, seriously.
Exhibit A: my first kiss- the sightless snog. He was blind. His mouth-eye coordination was slightly off-center. I was 16, and my first-kiss fantasy looked a bit like this film scene. I thought: what difference did it make if we were both blind? Real people, you know, on T.V, closed their eyes anyway, so technically we held a considerable advantage over the sighted snoggers of the world…except, well, not so much.
I knew precisely what was happening the moment I felt his breath on my cheek, and all I could think of was that joke: “What do you call a tennis match between Ray Charles and Stevie Wonder?…Endless love.”
The internal dialogue went something like this: ‘Oh god, that’s my neck. This is getting a bit too Bram Stoker. He’s missing. Should I, maybe, direct him a bit? Yes, I should guide him through it, verbally. Maybe this will be easier with a talking target.’
In the end, he gave the whole thing up as a bad job and just sort of bumped his cheek against mine in something akin to Eskimos…or those cartoon gnomes on Nickelodeon. I think Mark Darcy would agree here that nice boys definitely do not kiss like that.
Question: do you remember your first kiss?