This is going to be a very telling post. Thanks to my good friends over at Sunday Scribblings I've been prompted to write about my first kiss. Sadly, this is an event that has yet to happen.
Unless you want to count my preschool experiences with Angie Shrader, and I don't, then I've never been in a relationship that went on long enough to warrant a real kiss. That would be any relationship that went past a first date, right? I'm pretty sure I went on a lot of first dates back in high school and college. No second dates.
So after years of only first dates and none of those women wanting the follow up, I just gave up. Ergo, I haven't dated since the earlier part of this decade. Ergo, still no kissing.
It's one thing for me to admit to being a 29-year-old virgin. I'm perfectly okay with that. For me, that's a marriage thing. And since I'm not married, well, logic dictates, no sex. But to have gone 29 years without so much as a single liplock? Gotta say it's a little embarrassing.
No kisses after any of those first dates. No traditional mistletoe kisses at Christmas parties. Not even so much as a kiss from a random drunk girl at a friend's bachelor party.
It's probably best that I don't know what I'm missing.