This one started as something out of Cinderella. He was my childhood friend who had come back to confess his undying love for me and romanced me until I was in a bubble of fairy dust. I mean who doesn’t have the fantasy of meeting up with your childhood friend later in life once you have gone through the awkward phases of braces, bad fashion, bad odors and crazy hormones. You can come back super hot and walk around saying “what now bizznatch!!!” to everyone who called you anything but sexy earlier in life. So he took me to a wonderful restaurant and we had a steak dinner with baked potatoes and some wine. I don’t care if that makes me less lady like but the way to a girl’s heart in my opinion is a nice steak. It was the perfect romantic evening…the conversation flowed, he was as adorable as ever and I think I ate with my mouth closed…absolute perfection. We left the restaurant, got into his car, drove back to my place and my heart was beating anticipating a soft, sweet goodnight kiss. I definitely got more than I bargained for because he had hurricane hands. For those of you who are not familiar with this term, imagine a good kiss…his hand is on the small of your back, maybe running his fingers along your arm as your hands are around his neck. Now imagine his hands running all over your back, neck, legs, face in 0.2 seconds….you literally feel like you are entering a windstorm. Thank goodness I have a good amount of strength and was able to escape the car of doom.
This just proves that the perfect guy on paper can be ruined with the lack of kissing knowledge…on to the next one…
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