KJ
The first boy I kissed dumped me in the parking lot of the Saint Paul Cathedral on Ash Wednesday, like I was the sacrifice he elected to give up for Lent.
The first boy I kissed dumped me in the parking lot of the Saint Paul Cathedral on Ash Wednesday, like I was the sacrifice he elected to give up for Lent.
After six shots, three beers, and some very sloppy flirting, apparently I had my first kiss.
During that game of Spin the Bottle, I had my first kiss courtesy of my friend's red-headed cousin.
If I had known I was going to accidentally turn my head to face yours at just the right moment, I would have chosen a much more romantic setting than a Walgreen's parking lot.
And that, my friends, is how I ended up getting my first kiss (from a complete stranger, to boot) at Rocky Horror Picture Show night.
To her it was just a drunk game of Spin the Bottle, but for me it was the kiss I had been waiting for.