there is nothing, nothing, nothing worse than a really bad kisser.

my at-work, ladies'-lunchtime-knitting-roundtable found ourselves discussing the incredible impact that a great kiss can have on us. (see, this is what we supplement the "but he didn't leave a MESSAGE" discussions with.) but because that conversation was brief since great kissers are oh-so rare (and seriously, if you want to shut up a bunch of women, ask them to think about their best kiss ever; they'll just start staring all dreamily into space) (until they start swearing like sailors because they just totally messed up their yarn-over for the second time), we found ourselves discussing the other side of the story.

and here is where this entry becomes, quite frankly, gruesome.


what i am about to share with you is rather horrid. but it is true. and it is scary. and my friends who have heard this story first hand have asked that i share it here. perhaps to serve as a warning, perhaps just to make you feel better. because your worst kiss was not as bad as this.

so. when i was younger (but definitely old enough to know better) i agreed to go on a date with a man i will now have to call The Timid Lizard, becuase that will give you an indication of where this is going and why really you might want to stop reading RIGHT NOW.

(okay fine, but don't say i didn't warn you.)

the date fell into the ho-hum category. conversation was fine, but a little awkward, and overall the connection/butterflies/zsa zsa zsu was just NOT happening.

or so i thought.

apparently, the guy was on a different date than i was on. apparently, on his date, things were going very well. on his date, i seemed into him (on my date, my body language couldn't have spoken louder to the contrary). and so, on his date, it seemed like a good idea for him to end the night by stepping in closer to me.

whereupon i, as delicately as possible, jerked my head back -- mostly because i was shocked: he was going to try and kiss me, and i didn't know why, or how he could possibly think that a good idea, or what to do.

you know how moments like these seem to go in slow motion? when the moments go so slowly you can hear yourself think almost aloud?

"no way. he is not going to-- oh yes. he is. he IS going to try and-- no, don't scream. don't say 'ew' aloud that is too rude. maybe pull away a littl--uh, that is his hand on your shoulder. your shoulder. like you are in middle school and this is the slow dance. your 12-year-old boyfriend was smoother than this. ooh wait, maybe he is just going to pat your shoulder and wish you-- christ, there is his other hand on your-- is that your ribcage he's touching? you have to do something about this. nothing good is going to come from this. this shoulder-ribcage middle-school dance move is so not okay.

"okay, maybe if you don't move he will get the hint. his wet noodled arms clearly aren't going to pull you in, so maybe you can still escape-- ew. he's coming closer. he actually stepped closer instead of pulling you to him ew ew. keep pulling your head away this isn't really happen-- yes it is. he is kissing you. you have let him kiss you. his lips are on yours and you know his tongue is going to be next. why are you not pulling away? what are you DOING!?!?..."

and dumbfounded, i stood there. allowing noodle arms to kiss me. and then it got much worse.

because he did start with his tongue. he slowly, grossly, timidly stuck his tongue out at me, into my mouth.

and then he slowly, grossly, timidly took it out.

"okay," i heard myself say, "you survived and it was brief and WHAT IS THAT EWEWEW--"

it came back. the tongue came back.

and i suddenly realized that this wasn't just a bad kiss, it was the start of an entire bad-kiss-related production. starring me, The Timid Lizard, and the Timid Lizard's hips.

imagine if you will, me standing there in what can only be described as awe, while The Timid Lizard comes at me with a limp tongue and at the same time pushes his hips against me, in some sort of icky circular movement. meaning: tongue comes out, hips brush against me; tongue retracts, hips move away.

me, doing nothing.

and yet this is still not the worst of it. because now that the production is underway (with no end in sight), we have the added attraction of sound.

yes, sound.

every time the Lizard Tongue/Hip Movement reaches me, he makes a noise. a gurgly mmmMMMmmm noise.

i have no idea how i allowed the worst make-out experience of my life to continue, but i was struck immobile. all i could do was hear me yelling at myself in my head ("ew here comes the tongue, hips, mmmMMMmmm; phew! there they go. YOU NEED TO STOP THIS-- ew here comes the tongue, hips, mmmMMMmm; phew! there they go. YOU NEED TO STOP THIS...")

so finally, after what seemed like an awe-struck eternity, i awoke from my stupor. i suddenly pulled as far back as possible (and almost knocked myself against my door). and glared at him, trying not to look completely horrified.

he just looked at me and said, "mmmm. you are a great kisser."