Learning How to Kiss

 My Real Memoir

“Kissy Boys.” That was what our first-born called those osculation-crazy little preschool guys who chased her around the playground looking for a smooch. They weren’t particularly good at it, but they were persistent. It sounded familiar. Ah, yes, that was me, only a decade younger. At age fifteen I was a kissy boy. Still am, really. Just ask my wife.

Our high school Drama group (actual theatre as opposed to high school “drama,” of which there was plenty, as well) was a hotbed of flirting. In the Drama Room, where our tribe rehearsed, ate our lunches, and basically lived when not at home, we’d hug lavishly, play with each other’s hair, sit in circles rubbing each other’s shoulders, drape ourselves across one another. It was a basket of kindling, and we were the matches.

Especially after school.

Tina was a cheeky English-born girl with a sensuous trace of a Manchester dialect. Nancy was a tall, curvy blonde. And both were kissy girls. We’d gather whomever among our friends was available for impromptu parties, but N, T, and I were the regulars. There’d be games, music and munching, of course. But the real goal was kissing. Kissing practice to be precise. We’d pair off for a few minutes, come back, give notes on how each of us did, and then pair off in different combos. Interestingly, I never dated either of them while in high school, but went out with each a few times after graduating. Both are among my cherished lifelong friends.

And then Kelle, the cute girl with the lithe dancer’s figure I’d first spotted tanning in her yard behind my house, reentered the picture. We’d had no classes together freshman year and there’d been a messy divorce, ending in a move to an apartment building. But sophomore year, sweet, self-doubting Kelle signed up for Drama and danced back into view. Still, it was she who ignited the spark.

She asked me to the “girl’s choice” Sadie Hawkins Dance, and I blurted “Yes!” At the dance, Kelle in her cutoffs and I in my Li’l Abner overalls swigged “moonshine” (Kool-aid), chatted self-consciously and danced (she glided, I moved like a monkey in a straw hat). But the highlight, indeed the purpose, of the night was the Hayride.

We settled into the back of the horse-drawn hay wagon as it traversed our picturesque high school parking lot, commenting on the one ingredient that had been missing in our overlit Appalachian-ized gym: the night sky. And finally, fueled by moonlight, we kissed. Earnestly but inexpertly. Then a little more proficiently. And finally with something approaching talented novice-level. And then, even though we’d already filled our Sadie Hawkins Day Hayride quota, we started actually enjoying it.

The follow week, Nancy and Tina compared notes and agreed…

Mitch is finally learning how to kiss!

My Real Memoir is a series. To read the next one, click here.

About mitchteemley

Writer, Filmmaker, Humorist, Thinker-about-stuffer
This entry was posted in Humor, Memoir and tagged , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

30 Responses to Learning How to Kiss

  1. Pingback: Me: Some Assembly Required | Mitch Teemley

  2. The subject of kissing stretches miles!!! I didn’t even think boys were like that!!! Shows how little I knew going to an all girls high-school.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. It’s good to know you learned important lessons in high school.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. Ah, yes, I remember my first kiss. It was so amazing I thought I was seeing fireworks and in a completely different state of mind that I had never experienced before. Than later he that kissed me broke my heart.

    Liked by 1 person

  5. Well, I guess learning how to kiss properly was good practice for romantic high school plays–and beyond!

    Liked by 1 person

  6. I never thought of it as kissing practice before, but I guess that’s what all of us were doing in jr. high and high school. My first kiss was during my first boy-girl party in 6th grade. The guy was my second choice because the guy I was crushing on was with another girl 😦 Anyway, the first kiss guy gave me his ID bracelet after we kissed and asked me to go steady. I think our romance lasted five days. Thanks for bringing back a memory, Mitch.

    Liked by 1 person

  7. revruss1220 says:

    Ah, yes. That flaming passion pit known as the Drama Club. I remember it well. I wonder if today’s teachers have figured out the “alternative curriculum” of the folks who turn out for the dramatic arts or if they just shrug their shoulders, considering it an important rite of passage for high schoolers.

    Liked by 2 people

  8. K.L. Hale says:

    I remember kissing tag in the 5th grade, Mitch. Dad was Superintendent of Schools so it was NOT good when he had to talk to the entire grade. I got kissed, yuck! But not until I was found in my Great Aunt and Uncle’s barn that sat right on the school property line! Lol

    Liked by 1 person

  9. gpavants says:


    That brings back memories. Those good ole simple smooching days.

    Thanks, Gary

    Liked by 1 person

  10. Tristann Carroll says:

    Love this… being the eldest daughter of theatrical Kelle, it’s so fun to hear the other side of these young amorous adventures!

    Liked by 1 person

  11. Sounds like growing up in NewJersey. Happy Easter Mitch

    The Rooster

    Liked by 1 person

  12. My first kiss was in elementary school. Donna, a cute classmate, and I were playing a board game at my house while our parents talked. I stopped, looked at her cute face curiously (and longingly, I’m guessing), and then she leaned over and kissed me. Curiosity satisfied, we went back to our game. I didn’t have a lot of kissing experience after that growing up, but I savored each one!


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