Or: "The Pool of Love"
Okay, first off this isn't going to be as steamy as the title might imply. I am trying to keep this thing roughly PG-13. However, that doesn't mean that there won't be graphic depictions of 8-year olds awkwardly kissing. I'm also kidding there, too. That kind of stuff is grounds for lawsuits and FCC issues. So, I'll do my best to inform, while entertaining, and certainly not being overly gross.
So as I mentioned a few 'memories' ago, I had a pretty sloppy kid-crush on Jenny Motycka. And it wasn't a secret, either. Even as a wee lad (and no, I was never that 'wee'), I knew it was cool to go around bragging about how we were boy-friend/girl-friend even if it wasn't necessarily an actual fact. I'd tell people on the playground, ya know, my dude friends, and we'd do what any red-blooded American young boys would do to prove how much we dug those sassy girls: push them to the ground and laugh at them. It's real love when you dirty up a little lady's new sun dress during recess. It's deep, man. But, alas, we never officially became an 'item'. Even when we played house with my brother and her sister; it was all just a fantasy and my heart ached knowing that a true life together was but a dreamer's dream. Sad, isn't it?
Yet, there was another.
Yes, another girl in my life, and her name was Sarah. She was a member of the questionable Chenery Family who just so happened to live right next door to the Motyckas. This was particularly inconvenient when I decided that I'd go after Sarah since Jenny was brushing away my manly advances such as childish stalking and the ever popular amorous hair-pulling. Sure, Sarah was a few years younger than me, I think in between the Motycka sisters... so younger, but not incriminatingly so. Oh, and she had two brothers: her elder, by several years, and therefor two or three older than me, Jamie, and her younger who, at the time of this story, was producing the yearly supply of snot for the entire Great Lakes region. That is to say, he Ryan, was a lot younger and a lot more disgusting. The mother, Julie, was friends with my mom, so we'd have them over or hang out over there every so often and I'd do my best to woo Sarah. And by 'woo' I obviously mean hang out with Jamie and point out just how big of a smelly doofus she was. Man was I awesome at attracting chicks.
Anyway, as it turned out I was pretty groovy and spectacular to Sarah, and she actually fed off my advances rather than snub me and make me feel like a turd. And so, I decided at that point, that she was going to be the recipient of my 'First Kiss'. So one day, while I guess everyone else was either inside or not around, we sneaked into her garage, knelt across from one another, and puckered up like two exceptionally ridiculous fish. Only we looked far stupider, I'm sure. I can't honestly say since my eyes were jammed shut like steel traps. We inched ever closer until we could feel each others huffing and breathing like the overly excited snorts of freshly ran horses. Hot, isn't it? At this point I remember something so vividly that it has stayed with me since this moment some thirty-odd years ago: Sarah was chewing orange bubble gum.
And we kissed.
Now, before you get any ideas, remember that you were all children once, too. Two kissing 8-year olds has as much pulsating passion as freezing your tongue to an icy bus window (which I also did, and we'll talk about later). Sure, we kissed, and we held our lips together for a few seconds, and maybe we pursed them a few times, but then we uncomfortably separated, giggled a few times, and... and that was it. Anyone who tells you otherwise -that as an 8-year old they got into it and knecked and tongued- is a filthy liar. Kids have no clue as to what they're doing and it's mostly just emulating either TV or their parents. Either way, it was magical. Simply magical. In a 'what the hell just happened' kind of way, of course.
So at this point you're probably wondering where this 'Pool Love' comes in, right? Well, it's now. So relax.
You see, Jenny found out about me messing around with another dame and wasn't too thrilled about it. I just made that sound all pulpy and noir, didn't I? I guess it wasn't like that, but she did hear of it. Basically because I couldn't keep my big mouth shut. I said something like, "Look, doll, if I can't get no smoochy-smoochy from you, I know other kittens who'll purr..." Just like that. Probably. Well, I convinced her that if we kissed, she'd love it. And she finally caved.
Now the Motyckas also had a pool. Theirs was above-ground, too, but unlike our round one, theirs was a really big oval and like twice the size. We swam there quite a bit because it just fit more people. Well one day it was just the two of us swimming, and it was right after I blabbed that Sarah and I made out like two... really inexperienced and frightened 8-year olds and, apparently, Jenny discovered she wanted some of that sweet, sweet awkwardness in her life, too. So, to dissuade any onlookers from getting an eyeful of two kids being gross, she propped up a raft like a weird tent against the edge of the pool and we hid underneath.
This was it! I was finally going to get the lips of my crush! I was sweating with either anticipation or because it was 80 degrees out! Wow!
And so it went. She pinned me against the side of the pool, and laid one on me like she'd been practicing with her pillow or something. There was little doubt that Jenny had just a bit more experience than Sarah... and I say that really trying not to turn this into some bizarre Penthouse Forum letter. More or less, the kiss was the same. Only without the benefit of orange bubble gum. And she was in a hot one-piece bathing suit with a frilly skirt. Meow!
And that's the story. Obviously I was the man as a youth. Fighting off two ladies who wanted a real... boy. Ah, sweet, sweet childhood.
Oh, and as I said, I haven't talked to Jenny in the better part of twenty-five years. I'd like to think my kisses kept her away from men her entire adult life... wait, what?
Okay, first off this isn't going to be as steamy as the title might imply. I am trying to keep this thing roughly PG-13. However, that doesn't mean that there won't be graphic depictions of 8-year olds awkwardly kissing. I'm also kidding there, too. That kind of stuff is grounds for lawsuits and FCC issues. So, I'll do my best to inform, while entertaining, and certainly not being overly gross.
So as I mentioned a few 'memories' ago, I had a pretty sloppy kid-crush on Jenny Motycka. And it wasn't a secret, either. Even as a wee lad (and no, I was never that 'wee'), I knew it was cool to go around bragging about how we were boy-friend/girl-friend even if it wasn't necessarily an actual fact. I'd tell people on the playground, ya know, my dude friends, and we'd do what any red-blooded American young boys would do to prove how much we dug those sassy girls: push them to the ground and laugh at them. It's real love when you dirty up a little lady's new sun dress during recess. It's deep, man. But, alas, we never officially became an 'item'. Even when we played house with my brother and her sister; it was all just a fantasy and my heart ached knowing that a true life together was but a dreamer's dream. Sad, isn't it?
Yet, there was another.
Yes, another girl in my life, and her name was Sarah. She was a member of the questionable Chenery Family who just so happened to live right next door to the Motyckas. This was particularly inconvenient when I decided that I'd go after Sarah since Jenny was brushing away my manly advances such as childish stalking and the ever popular amorous hair-pulling. Sure, Sarah was a few years younger than me, I think in between the Motycka sisters... so younger, but not incriminatingly so. Oh, and she had two brothers: her elder, by several years, and therefor two or three older than me, Jamie, and her younger who, at the time of this story, was producing the yearly supply of snot for the entire Great Lakes region. That is to say, he Ryan, was a lot younger and a lot more disgusting. The mother, Julie, was friends with my mom, so we'd have them over or hang out over there every so often and I'd do my best to woo Sarah. And by 'woo' I obviously mean hang out with Jamie and point out just how big of a smelly doofus she was. Man was I awesome at attracting chicks.
Anyway, as it turned out I was pretty groovy and spectacular to Sarah, and she actually fed off my advances rather than snub me and make me feel like a turd. And so, I decided at that point, that she was going to be the recipient of my 'First Kiss'. So one day, while I guess everyone else was either inside or not around, we sneaked into her garage, knelt across from one another, and puckered up like two exceptionally ridiculous fish. Only we looked far stupider, I'm sure. I can't honestly say since my eyes were jammed shut like steel traps. We inched ever closer until we could feel each others huffing and breathing like the overly excited snorts of freshly ran horses. Hot, isn't it? At this point I remember something so vividly that it has stayed with me since this moment some thirty-odd years ago: Sarah was chewing orange bubble gum.
And we kissed.
Now, before you get any ideas, remember that you were all children once, too. Two kissing 8-year olds has as much pulsating passion as freezing your tongue to an icy bus window (which I also did, and we'll talk about later). Sure, we kissed, and we held our lips together for a few seconds, and maybe we pursed them a few times, but then we uncomfortably separated, giggled a few times, and... and that was it. Anyone who tells you otherwise -that as an 8-year old they got into it and knecked and tongued- is a filthy liar. Kids have no clue as to what they're doing and it's mostly just emulating either TV or their parents. Either way, it was magical. Simply magical. In a 'what the hell just happened' kind of way, of course.
So at this point you're probably wondering where this 'Pool Love' comes in, right? Well, it's now. So relax.
You see, Jenny found out about me messing around with another dame and wasn't too thrilled about it. I just made that sound all pulpy and noir, didn't I? I guess it wasn't like that, but she did hear of it. Basically because I couldn't keep my big mouth shut. I said something like, "Look, doll, if I can't get no smoochy-smoochy from you, I know other kittens who'll purr..." Just like that. Probably. Well, I convinced her that if we kissed, she'd love it. And she finally caved.
Now the Motyckas also had a pool. Theirs was above-ground, too, but unlike our round one, theirs was a really big oval and like twice the size. We swam there quite a bit because it just fit more people. Well one day it was just the two of us swimming, and it was right after I blabbed that Sarah and I made out like two... really inexperienced and frightened 8-year olds and, apparently, Jenny discovered she wanted some of that sweet, sweet awkwardness in her life, too. So, to dissuade any onlookers from getting an eyeful of two kids being gross, she propped up a raft like a weird tent against the edge of the pool and we hid underneath.
This was it! I was finally going to get the lips of my crush! I was sweating with either anticipation or because it was 80 degrees out! Wow!
And so it went. She pinned me against the side of the pool, and laid one on me like she'd been practicing with her pillow or something. There was little doubt that Jenny had just a bit more experience than Sarah... and I say that really trying not to turn this into some bizarre Penthouse Forum letter. More or less, the kiss was the same. Only without the benefit of orange bubble gum. And she was in a hot one-piece bathing suit with a frilly skirt. Meow!
And that's the story. Obviously I was the man as a youth. Fighting off two ladies who wanted a real... boy. Ah, sweet, sweet childhood.
Oh, and as I said, I haven't talked to Jenny in the better part of twenty-five years. I'd like to think my kisses kept her away from men her entire adult life... wait, what?
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