Kiss and Tell

A guest post from Buster:

It was the beginning of my eighth grade year in a back-to-school assembly. The student emcee called down several jr. high boys to the gym floor. Then the emcee asked them to name their girlfriends, who were also then asked to come down to the gym floor. I really didn’t have a girlfriend (I would like to think it was because I had more than one), so the stupid girl announcing the assembly just picks this girl named Lucy that was a friend of mine, but certainly not my girlfriend. I was very uncomfortable with the whole thing, and I was not happy about this because everybody knew the other guys had their girlfriends, but LUCY WAS NOT MY GIRLFRIEND (I think I even had a crush on somebody else at the time and didn’t want to ruin my chances with her by having my love for Lucy publicly and falsely proclaimed against my will). The emcee proceeded to have each of us boys blindfolded. Then, much to my discomfort, she said that each of the girlfriends was going to kiss their respective boyfriends, and then the boys were supposed to rate the kiss on a scale of 1 to 10. I was blindfolded, angry, and mortified. I’m surprised I didn’t wet my pants. I could hear (but not see) as the crowd hollered and whistled as the emcee counted down for the girls to kiss their boyfriends. Was this almost-stranger Lucy really going to kiss me?!? Right in front of the whole damn jr. high study body?!? (Keep in mind how awkward those jr. high years were.) “3! . . . 2! . . . 1!” and sure enough, I felt a pair of lips press against mine. WHAT THE HECK! Was this really happening?!? Aaaagh! (Just thinking about this is making me want to lose my lunch still today.) Still blindfolded, the judging began. Studly jr. high boyfriend #1 joyfully exclaims, “10!” Studly jr. high boyfriend #2 exuberantly repeats, “10!” Studly jr. high boyfriend #3 raucously yells, “10!” Then to me, pseudo boyfriend #4. I panicked. What should I do? I don’t want everybody in the whole stinking jr. high to think I’ve got the hots for Lucy, but Lucy is a nice girl and I don’t want to hurt her feelings. My pride won out as I said in the microphone, “6.” The crowd groaned. A 6? What was I doing? The kiss wasn’t that bad, but I had to keep my options open. I had an entire school year of flirting ahead of me! I couldn’t ruin it by pinning my hot lips on Lucy! At that point, the emcee said we could remove our blindfolds, which we did. Due to the bright gym lights and the blood in my bright red, flushed face, it took a moment for my eyes to adjust, but then I saw her standing in front of me . . . my mom! That damn emcee had set me up! I thought Lucy had really kissed me. I don’t know who was worse off, me having ranked my mom’s kiss as a 6, or the other idiots who had ranked a kiss from their “mommies” as a 10! The whole thing stunk to high heaven, unless you were sitting in the puberty-ridden jr. high audience laughing your butt off.