Seven Minutes in the Bottle...

I was in grade six. One of those kids who wasn't quite one of the "cool kids" but wasn't a loser either. I was in that delightful category that allowed me to be friendly with everyone, and with a few exceptions most people were pleasant enough back.

It was a comforting way to live. I didn't wake up each morning dreading school more than any other regular 11 year old. There were some days that I would walk home alone and each lunch watching TV. And other days, cute boys and popular girls would be even go out of their way to talk to me. Yet, I didn't have the pressure to perform that they did. For the most part I just did my own thing.

My mother passed away on January 1 of that year. And that month? I was invited to my first real party. One with girls AND boys. An invitation that was significant and momentous. I wouldn't be invited to a party at that boy's house ever again. But for that one shining moment, I was cool enough to be accepted and included. Perhaps because they felt sorry for me? Perhaps because I had thrown a Halloween party that fall and invited almost the whole class? Who knows?

I don't really remember a lot about that night. Perhaps I agonized over what to wear. Perhaps I was terrified. Or perhaps I was still too sad to really get worked up about it. But I went.

But what I do remember about that party? It was the first and only time in my life that I had ever played "spin the bottle." It was the night of my first kiss. I don't even remember being that nervous about it. Although it seems reasonable to me that I would be concerned about the possibility of rejection if the bottle landed on me, and someone reacted with horror.

It seems to me that we went in order. And when it was the turn of the boy next to me, it landed on me. He wasn't someone that I had a crush on or spoke to any more than anyone else. I was remarkably neutral about it. I leaned over and kissed him and that was it. Then it was my turn and it landed on him again. I leaned over again and he pursed his lips that time. I guess I didn't do it for him. It was a very quick second kiss and then it was over.

I'm sure it went around the entire circle, but that's where my memory ends. I do remember being a bit dismayed in junior high when that boy got into a lot of trouble. It seems he fell into a bad crowd. To this day all I really remember about him was him clenching his lips on our second kiss, and the fact that there was a rumour that he set some kid's face on fire in junior high. Lovely.

I even tried googling him just now in the spirit of this post. I found someone with his name in real estate in Winnipeg. But no photo. (Unusual for a realtor). Perhaps he's in jail for the whole face-on-fire thing??

So, I suppose on paper, my first kiss was at a game of spin the bottle at age 11. But really? Does that have to count? I would rather have a memory of my first kiss being something voluntary and exciting. Something that I'd been anticipating and getting all tingly about. But, being that I was a slow-bloomer, that didn't happen until my first boyfriend when I was 17. Six years. That's a long time to wait.

I wonder if the kids still play spin the bottle? Or seven minutes in heaven- does that really happen? Or was it just made up for the movies?

Ok, so ante up people. I wanna hear your first kiss stories. Good? Pursed lips? Was there a bottle or closet involved?

xo