I think that you, Gentle Reader, will like this story. It's caused more than one smile. I tell it in the effort of making me smile, for a change.
We'll call it
"My First Smooch"
When I was 6 or 7, my parents took me to Annapolis when they went to visit their old army buddies. One of their friends' two children was Eileen. She was two years younger than me.
Our parents decided we should go one night to Some Ritzy Seafood Joint. I remember this because somebody ordered me crab. They gave me a roasted crab and a little hammer. Nobody ever told me how to eat crab, so I used my little hammer to pound my crab into paste. This is what I really remember, because the Major refused to buy me any more food (after all, I had wasted one whole entree) and I was quite hungry.
On the way back, I coughed. Now this is was in an old Station Wagon, and as the youngest passengers Eileen and I had been forced into that creepy backwards-facing seat. Concerned, Eileen offered me a cough drop. Forced, more like, as she was a forceful lady. I took it.
A cherry Ludens Brothers', as I recall.
Then she gave me this searching look.
"What would you do if I kissed you?"
I thought about this.
"I don't know," I said.
She reached over and planted one on me.
I was quite surprised.
Everybody else in the car burst into laughter.
Yep. My first kiss, folks: a moment of public mirth. Even for those invloved.
No. Didn't work. I still feel like crap.