My first kiss, I am proud to say, happened before I started uni. I had just turned eighteen and had been messaging this guy Rueben. He invited me to a costume party, but the only costume item I owned was a cowboy hat I stole from a school play in year 6. As a result I felt slightly under dressed when I saw his full makeup and suit as Heath Ledger’ s Joker.
But it was fine, because we kissed. The build up was perfect- even though he looked terrifying dressed as the Joker. But the flirting, the laughing, the choice of song: David Bowie’ s Life On Mars, it was romantic as Hell. The kiss itself was less perfect, as the night of my first kiss was also the night I discovered I’ m allergic to the Joker’ s face paint. I woke up the next morning with a red rash around my lips. Oh, and I get cold sores now. The worst kiss was actually another first. After Reuben and I stopped talking, the next bit of action I got wasn’ t until I started university, over a year later, on the night I lost my virginity. This should have been the iconic one. The one in years to come that keeps me up at night. It wasn’ t. The crime of my kiss with Jamie Clark is that it was just fine. It was boring. The most notable thing that happened is it was on the same night Matthew Perry died. I got the news notification at the worst possible moment. Let’ s just say neither before or after. It was so badly timed I was scared if I had sex again I would kill another one of the Friends cast. And I cannot be responsible for the death of Jennifer Anniston. My mother would never forgive me.
The best kiss was a very different story. It all started the Thursday after the milk incident. Thursday’ s are the big nights out because it’ s Indie night at The Dog & Parrot. Despite there being so many people, you need to be in a group, one person alone on a night out stands out more than a group of four dozen. So after my flatmates ditched me, I had no one to hand. Instead, I was sat eating a frozen pizza, watching 30 Rock, and making excuses about why I wasn’ t going out, and why that was fine, actually. But pizza and Tina Fey is no good without something to drink, so I decide to treat myself by going across the street to Tesco’ s, where I’ ll spend less than four quid on a two litre bottle of coke zero and a box of Malteser’ s. Every time I’ m sad, happy, numb, bored or horny, I get this deal and it improves my mood. But I didn’ t get to Tesco’ s.
Do you believe in fate? Or are you one of those people that think it’ s just a fancy word for coincidence? Either way, on the way out I met a casual friend: Danny. He was
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