Wednesday, February 18, 2009

That First Kiss

Your first kiss! what memories does that conjure up?  We all have a story.  Maybe it was a "stolen kiss; a member of the opposite sex sneaks up on you and plants one before you even know what happens.  Maybe it just happened, like int he movies.  Maybe you planned and planned for it.  This last case scenario was most like mine.
      Her name was Carol Jean Derouseau.  We were freshmen in high school.  She was pretty, smiled all the time and smart.   I think she even liked me a little.  I asked her to a school dance, don't remember the theme, maybe homecoming.  She agreed to go with me.  All week, I planned how I was going to get my FIRST KISS.  The date went fine and then there was the walk up to her front door.  I was going to ask her if I could kiss her goodnight when we got to the door.  As soon as we got out of the car, she zoomed ahead of me and got behind the screen door and closed it.  She then told me how nice a time she had.  I was crushed!  Dreams shattered!  I would die an old bachelor, never marrying.
    Oh, I dated after that travesty.  I would sit with Barb down at the boat landing in Rice Lake, parked in the car talking; just talking.  I just did not have the courage to go the next step and get that FIRST KISS.
           Two years later, junior in high school.  My date was a little gal by the name of Diane Crotteau.  I started thinking  about that First Kiss again.  She lived out in the country and maybe, if I could get up enough courage, I would "park" like the experienced boys did.  Well, the drive through the country came off without the event taking place; lack of courage- again.  I pull into her drive way and she is just sitting next to me and we are talking.  I finally say, "well, I better be getting home, my folks will be waiting up for me."  She says, "Do you have to go already?"  I say, "yeah". (Notice I did not use one "like" in this conversation)  So, I walk her up to the door and say good night.
         I get in the car and start blasting myself for not getting that kiss.  She was asking for it, I told myself.  I also told myself that next weeks date was going to be different or I would become a monk.
         So, next week on the way home, I again drove through those quiet, dark, inviting country roads.  I would slow down to park, chicken out and speed up further down the road where the procedure would repeat itself.  Finally, I pulled into a drive way to turn around.  When one backs up, one must put his arm on the back of the seat.  Well, heck that was so close to her shoulders, I might as well slip it down around her.  So, what does she say to me?  (She denies this) "You're a tiger tonight".  Yeow!  I've been caught!  I blubber something like I can put my arm down and she says, "No, that's ok, you can leave it". Whew!  So, I leave it there until we pull into her drive way.  Small Talk, (good name for a rock group) again and then mustering up all the courage of a soldier on the front line, I say. "Would it be ok if I kiss you good night".  I don't remember exactly her answer.  I'm quite sure it was not, "I guess so"  or " I suppose so".  So, I planted those virgin lips onto those soft, warm lips of Miss Diane Crotteau and Zow-EEE! Was that great!  I think I'll try that again.  We did!!  I walk her up to her door for another FIRST KISS and I say, "I'll see you next week!!!".  I could not believe how wonderful a feeling that was.
       I walk into my house and I announce to my folks, "Well, I have done it!".  My dad knew where I had been and he very hesitantly says, "You've done what?"  I said, "I kissed my first girl".  He walks over to the calendar and states that this event should be marked on the calendar.  His first born fruit of his loins is now finally a man!
      Seven years later I asked this young lady, my first kiss, if she would like to be my last kiss.  She said, of course, yes.  I remember wondering, (don't tell her this) if I would ever get tired of kissing those warm, soft lips.  I have not.  (You can tell her that- I do)
    This is a true story.  The names of the people in this story have not been changed.  Well, except for Miss Diane Crotteau becoming Mrs. Diane Osborn.  I must have had something going for me for a class lady to actually agree to be married to me, don cha know?


  1. Very sweet-I'm so glad she agreed to be your last kiss!

  2. Nice Small Talk reference, ha.

    Man, I was smooching girls back in grade school. Under some parents big bed,, under a canoe at the Amery beach, in your bathroom (ha!), wherever. But my first girlfriend that I kissed I suppose was in 9th grade, the girl from Superior.

    Your story made those nervous feelings come back. I don't miss the nervousness, but it sure was exciting.