Hello everyone! Lynsey here, and I’m so excited to introduce a new feature I’ll be writing called How to Lose a Guy in Ten Ways. Every Monday (deadline permitting) I’ll be sharing stories from my forays into the dating world: the good, the bad and the ugly. So grab a cup of tea and a pack of biscuits (one is never enough, let’s face it) and let’s dive right in, shall we?
All good stories start at the beginning and this is no exception. So to kick off the How to Lose a Guy in Ten Ways series, I’m going to tell you all about my very first kiss. It happened when I was fifteen years old and it was…an experience. I met Michael* through a mutual friend of ours. She was going out with his friend and asked if I wanted to meet Michael. I was what you might call a late bloomer and hadn’t had any experience with guys prior to this, so I decided to say yes and see what happened. Which turned out to be nothing, apart from watching a couple of DVDs on his bunk beds and one very sloppy kiss, which I’m about to tell you about.
As I said above, my romantic experience was zilch at this point, but even I knew that when it came to kissing, location was a pretty important factor. Think of the great romantic comedies, for example. On a beach during a thunderstorm (Sweet Home Alabama), on a houseboat (The Wedding Date) or at the top of the Empire State Building (Sleepless in Seattle). They all had it pretty sussed when it came to kiss locations.
I, however, did not.
My first kiss took place outside a crematorium.
That’s right, folks. Of all the places for my romantic journey to start, it had to be outside a crematorium. Doesn’t really set the romantic mood, does it? We were walking through a really creepy wooded area near the crematorium, on our way to where my dad was picking me up. We were nearly there when Michael stopped me, turned me round to face him and kissed me. As with all first kisses, it was awkward, bumpy and a bit of a disappointment. I waited for the sparks and fireworks I’d seen in movies to come, but they didn’t. Michael seemed to think the way to a girl’s heart was through some serious lizard-tongue (it isn’t). He was a nice enough guy, but it’s safe to say that kissing wasn’t his forte. I didn’t see him again after that. His friend broke up with my friend, so he said we shouldn’t see each other anymore. I did see him one more time though: on an episode of Street Crime UK. I always knew how to pick ’em.
So that was my first kiss! Comment below with your first kiss memories. I’d love to hear them!