The Worst Kisser EVER Guy

I met this guy at a friend's Christmas party. He was alone. I was alone. It only made sense that he and I should talk to each other. He had the plastic glasses, skinny jeans, messy hair--everything that would make me think that I would enjoy talking to him. And that's what we did. We left the party. No numbers were exchanged. At this point I was thinking that he was actually really fun to talk with, and that hopefully I'd found a new friend. And that I did.

The powers of facebook allowed us to stay connected, and we actually hung out a few times. We got sushi one night. We met up with friends sometimes. Everything was JUST friends and was nice. It's not like we hung out all the time, but we emailed on a fairly regular basis. And then it became more irregular. But that's life. We weren't best friends, and it just faded.

A few months later, I saw him at the coffee shop. He introduced me to his girlfriend. As I was shaking her hand, I was thinking to myself that this is why I haven't heard from him in a while. Ahh well. She seemed nice, and he appeared happy. I did tell him that we needed to grab a drink sometime and catch up. A few weeks went by, and I shot him a text to see if he wanted to meet up. He couldn't, and that was fine.

Here's where the story is. A couple weeks after that, I was driving home from a night out (about to be convinced to meet up with a guy who was major bad news--another story for another time--and I got a text from my friend that said, "How 'bout that drink?" Let me just say right now that it was 11:30 on a Friday night. But because I wasn't quite ready to go home, I asked him where to meet. When I met up with him, I noticed that he was probably a few drinks in. So, we had one more. He wanted to get out of there, and because it was nearly 1:00 and neither of us were up for downtown, he offered for us to watch a movie at his place. I agreed. Mind you, I knew this guy. He wasn't a stranger. We were friends--the point being that I trusted him enough to go over to his house (it also might be worth mentioning that while he was probably a good 5 inches taller than me, I outweighed him by about 30 pounds... so I think we all know who would have won in that struggle). Anywho, on the way to his place, he called me and asked if we could go over to mine instead because his roommate was being weird.

He had me in a bind at this point, because my roommate (who was my sister at the time) was going to be wierd about him coming over, too. But I said it was ok. So, he followed me to my place. He picked out a movie to watch. When I went to sit on the couch, he put his arm around me, which move confirmed my suspicion that he and his girlfriend had called it quits. So basically we cuddled on the couch and watched the movie.

Then..... it happened. He kissed me. And not just a quick little kiss. He went for it. And it was NOT good. He basically stuck his tongue as far as he could get it in my mouth and just kept it there. He didn't move it. It just kind of laid there in my mouth. He let his hands do all of the moving, if you know what I'm saying. Now, I don't know what he thought was going to happen that night (he did find the top of my tights that were pulled up about 9 inches above my belly button and found a way to get his hand inside of them--yes, I called it a belly button--but he didn't keep it there fore long), but I basically had to spit his tongue out of my mouth, and I went to bed. At this point, he was too tired to drive home so he crashed on the couch.

The next morning was not less than awkward. First of all, he wouldn't wake up fast enough. Second of all, my poor sister saw him on the couch, and just went back upstairs. When he finally got up, nothing was said about the previous night. I told him how to get out of the neighborhood, and that is literally the last I ever heard from him. (Side note: the powers of the internet allowed me to learn that he got back with that girlfriend of his and is now married to her).

What I learned from this situation was that an 11:30 text from a guy asking to go out for a drink is a bootie call. Even if you're casual friends, this guy from the moment he sent that text had other things in mind. In retrospect, I think he had had a fight with his girlfriend and just wanted to forget about her for a moment. But the more important lesson learned: tights make things awkward. They can either be a protective barrier/too much trouble for him to deal with or a nuisance for the wearer. In this case, the tights were definitely the former, but it is something to think about as fall and winter roll around.