Today’s post is short and sweet. Mainly because I am nursing a post wedding hangover and feel like I could sleep longer than Rip Van Winkle! But also because this post is here to congratulate Mr. and Mrs. Klostermann! That’s … Continue reading
I was a very late romantic bloomer. I had my first date at 23, my first adult slumber party at 21, and my first kiss at 19. And as far as big memorable romantic moments go my first kiss is rather special to me. Not because the guy was anything spectacular (I barely remember his name, let alone what he looks like) nor because the setting was particularly romantic (it was at a party in a bar that was covered in so many drinks your feet stuck to the floor). But as with most of the stories of my love life, the first kiss occurred under rather unique circumstances. These circumstances are not quite as unique as being asked on your first date in a strip club but I definitely wouldn’t classify them as normal. To start with it involves zombies, vampires, fireworks, the UK, and a small scandal.
First off….Some mood music
I’d been living in Cirencester, England for over a month now and I had a tight group of girl friends, something quite rare for me at that point in my life. Now my girls and I had some pretty kick as plans for the evening, did I mention it was Halloween? We had some drinks while we got our costumes on, most people ended up going as a vampire because it was easy and Halloween is not quite the same big event it is over here. I on the other had went full zombie. I had a complete make up job (or what I could get out of $7 worth of cheap Halloween makeup), 80’s style clothes ripped, dirty, and covered in dried blood, I even had sticks and grass in my hair to make it look like I’d just crawled out of my shallow grave. One of the girls on my floor even screamed when she saw me, which I took as a compliment.
Fully decked out in our costumes and a little tipsy we headed to the college bar for one more drink before the fireworks display. Fireworks over we proceeded to the beer soaked dance floor to rave. While raving I look around and all of my girls have disappeared! Well, not quite disappeared, I eventually spotted each of them at a different part of the dance floor with a different guy! And before I have a chance to decide what I’m going to do I’ve suddenly found myself paired off as well! Before I know it I feel his lips touch mine and while I’d like to say, as most hopeless romantics would, that it was magical and I saw fireworks for the second time that night, but really it was more of a drunken mess!
Now I’ve covered Zombies, Vampires, Fireworks, and the UK. I bet you’re thinking I’ve forgotten about something. You said this involved a small scandal! Well no, I haven’t forgot. The scandal occurred the morning after. I should first of all explain that the university I went to is very small, everybody knew everybody….SERIOUSLY! And as I said had a tight group of girl friends, so it should have been as surprising as it was when I was a accused of sleeping with a guy one of my friends had been making out with. I quickly squash that idea, this person they thought I slept with could easily be described as my mortal enemy, and I’d only just had my first kiss. But once I’d satisfied the gossip guppy that I was not the one my enemy was bragging about concurring I was grilled about my girls.
The conclusion? The guy had been bragging about sleeping with one of us but in reality he had merely walked my friend to her room! However, things got pretty tense as he had to make it as awkward as humanly possibly for my friend every time we went out in public. Just another reason he and I were enemies.
Do not be alarmed. This post is not about me doing my laundry. That would be extremely dull and tedious. Instead this is a story from one of my Match dates. In fact this story involves the first person I ever went on more than one date with.
So this guy, let’s call him Greg (mainly because I can’t remember his actual name), and I have been on 4 or 5 dates at this point. We seem to enjoy each other’s company, though Greg does seem a bit shy. He’s not in to cuddling or being touchy-feely, which is just fine with me because I’m not either. However, I did find it rather weird that’d he done nothing more than hold my hand once, but I chalked it up to shyness and let it go. Finally, one Friday night comes around and I ask him what he is up to. He tells me he’s not doing much, just some laundry, but I’m more than welcome to come over. Its 9:30 PM and I’m still at work so I cant make it there until 11 at the earliest.
11 PM, I show up at his place to help him do “laundry,” assuming that there would actually be very little laundry getting done, if ya know what I mean. And you will never guess what happened. We did laundry! That’s it. Just wash clothes and watch some TV. To make things even worse, while watching TV, he couldn’t even sit near me. He had to sit on the love seat while I sat on the couch. Needless to say, that was the last time I ever saw Greg.
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