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.
Mitch Teemley 
Yikes!
LikeLiked by 2 people
Pingback: Me: Some Assembly Required | Mitch Teemley
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.
LikeLiked by 1 person
;>)
LikeLike
I went to an all-girls’ high school, too, although the guys from the all-boys’ school next door had parts in our theatrical productions, and vise versa. Definitely the most exciting part of high school…
Many years later, when I was a teacher, when asked what I taught, I would always say, “Middle school drama – pardon the redundancy.” 🙄
LikeLiked by 2 people
Great line, Annie.
LikeLiked by 1 person
We didn’t have that joy. Only a few girls doing A level mathematics ,if I remember correctly , went to the boys school.
LikeLike
It’s good to know you learned important lessons in high school.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I know, right!
LikeLiked by 1 person
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.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Well, as Tennyson tells us, “Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.” Right, Cora? ❤
LikeLike
Right, I agree.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Well, I guess learning how to kiss properly was good practice for romantic high school plays–and beyond!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Um, definitely “and beyond.” ;>)
LikeLiked by 1 person
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.
LikeLiked by 1 person
5 days is pretty impressive by 6th grade standards, Kellye. My first steady lasted almost two weeks. But then that was 8th grade and I was ready for a longterm commitment.
LikeLiked by 1 person
LOL!
LikeLiked by 1 person
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.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Alternative curriculum! Ha! My drama club had behind the scenes that I’m glad wasn’t filmed! Not that I was the culprit, but sure had to get us back to script one year lol! A love triangle ensued during our practices for “Annie Get Your Gun!” lol
LikeLiked by 1 person
Actors!! ;>)
LikeLiked by 1 person
Jeez! Watta ya gonna da with ’em?! Hee hee
LikeLiked by 1 person
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
LikeLiked by 1 person
Hah! But then, that’s what barns are for, right, Karla?
LikeLiked by 1 person
Tee hee!!!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Mitch,
That brings back memories. Those good ole simple smooching days.
Thanks, Gary
LikeLiked by 1 person
Love this… being the eldest daughter of theatrical Kelle, it’s so fun to hear the other side of these young amorous adventures!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Tristann! What a delight to hear from you, and so glad you’re OK with reading about your mom’s amorous adventures from “the other side.” There’s more to come.
LikeLike
Sounds like growing up in NewJersey. Happy Easter Mitch
The Rooster
LikeLiked by 1 person
You too, Rooster!
LikeLike
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!
LikeLike