My first boyfriend’s name was Michael.
After swatting away a few seventh graders, I made him mine. After a few days of handholding, while innocently sitting on the monkey bars, shouting came from the swings – “I dare you guys to make-out!” Call me a prude, but I wasn’t about to lose my first kiss memories on a dare. I left. Needless to say, he broke up with me in that classy way that boys do at twelve – he sent a friend to do it.
Since then I’ve learned that make-outs serve a few purposes. If it’s good it’s like travel-sized sex - appropriate to bring to bars, and tides you over until you have time/room/patience for the real thing. It can also be a warning sign, not unlike samples at Costco. You’ll either stock up on a month’s supply or you’ll spit that mush into the nearest napkin and run the opposite direction.
We’ve all got our highlight reel…
Nick: Grade 8. First kiss. We both had braces. Now, braces are tricky business, but unavoidable if you’ve got shitty teeth. So, unless you plan on living in some kind of Josie Grossie kind of universe, (and I promise you, you will NEVER meet Michael Vartan IRL) you’re going to have to make out with someone.
Chris D: Sixteen-year-old romance. After lying to my mother (“Sleeping over at Alicia’s – bye!”), I spent my night on his couch watching Army of Darkness. After an awkward make out we saw each other a total of one other time before he broke up with me. Later, we spent a few nights together when we both moved to Toronto but, I never did get him naked. Trust me, it wasn’t due to a lack of trying.
Mike S: First year of University. I was visiting a friend in St Catherine’s and staying in her dorm. Being nineteen, obviously my first question was “Who’s the lanky blonde guy?” Well, his name was Mike. We made out on the living room floor after an unsuccessful attempt at sleeping on the couch. Five years later he found me on Facebook and tried to lure me into le sex after a series of “sexy” photos and texts. This was also unsuccessful.
Dave: I was 24. After months of long distance courting, and a friendly hands free sleepover he walked me home. Just before we parted ways at the Subway Station, he grabbed my face and planted one on me. We did that whole thing for a few seconds and hastily said goodbye. But not before he managed to turn around and walk right into a telephone poll. Smooth move.
And the strike outs…
Chris H: The stars simply did not align. However, Third Eye Blind’s Motorcycle Drive-by will forever remind me of him in a strange sixteen year old infatuation kind of way.
Nash: He was in a band. It was my 19th birthday. He kissed my forehead when I left his tour bus. He’s still in a band. He still lives in New York. Part of me wishes that he got married, got fat, fathered a small litter and moved to Buffalo. However, due to the miraculous way that wine and Facebook are intrinsically linked, I’m aware that this is untrue.
Not all your mouth to mouth sessions will be the stuff dreams are made of. But, you know what they say: If you can't mock yourself for getting caught in your boyfriend's basement in nothing but a very openly woven throw blanket, what can you do?