like Chris Brown, she looked like this Indian model I saw in an OPI ad.
They looked to be no more than 17 years old, necking on the subway
platform at 6 in the morning.
My initial reaction was that of longing (haha!). Then, I was curious. I
wanted to know where these kids were coming from or going to at 6am and
what her parents were thinking/going to say to her. I remember being 21
and coming home at 4 am was like a slap in the face to my mom, after she
called my phone like 50-11 times. Then, I remembered...necking. Ooohhh
lala. And I thought about my Blair Underwood resting (hopefully) in his
own bed on my street. (I can claim ownership for having lived there
Ahhhh, Blair. I have to come up with a better moniker out of fear those
who don't read me regularly will think you're a lady. (*snicker*)
Anywho...I wonder if he likes to kiss.
I love to. I remember hungry kisses of adolescence when going all the
way was still a vague idea in the back of your mind. Hungry fingers
allowed to explore anywhere but there (!!!)...I mean unless we'd been
dating for more than a couple of months. Having a good kiss was like
having whipped cream on top of hot chocolate in the Winter.
I miss those more innocent times. Seeing those two kids made me wander
down memory lane back down to my own silacious affairs. Kissing in the
hall in high school. He was in the science program, I was in the arts
program. We would go for a "bathroom break" and meet half-way and
yummmm until we knew that our peers would either know what we were up to
or think we had diarrhea or until the security guards would catch us.
I remember it being sunny outside. School would be over in a month or 2.
Meeting my date in the park, sitting on his lap and smooch. I thought I
was so grown.
I remember my and Afroman's first kiss. He's a full foot and 2 inches
taller than me. I was trying to make a move on him. It was freezing
outside. We were both on Spring Break our freshman year of college. I
was still very pro-black with my one of my colorful headwraps on. I'd
just discovered blue eyeliner and was just realizing my own beauty.
Anyway, we took a walk through Prospect Park. We walked through it all
day. We held hands nervously. We joked around. We talked about his
skateboarding tricks. Night fell and it was time for us to go home. I
said, "Kiss me you idiot." Or something really aggresive that I thought
would make me sound hot. He leaned down and pow! Fireworks. "I wished
you'd done that earlier," I said. Its crazy that that was 5 years ago
and I still remember.
The last two guys I was involved in were not good kissers. Or rather,
they didn't respect the art of the kiss as I do. Kissing for them was
just a segway into what they wanted. No more! (*throws index finger in
Hopefully, Blair can kiss. A girl can't go back on her own rules. Even
if he can't, a girl can try to teach an older gentleman some new
Speaking of Blair, he's in trouble. I've been fantasizing about dates;
planning outfits and pedicure colors. I'm a trip. I better call him
before he forgets about me....
Anywhosies! I said all of that, (*glances up nervously*), to say that
are we all just teenagers wishing we could neck on the train or on park
benches but glad that we're grown enough to go the distance?