Joyanna Adams

It’s in His Kiss: HIT BY A BUS

Nobody Wonders—How many men know this? Ladies? We don’t talk about it much, but how important is that first kiss?

I was thinking about this today. Imagining what my first kiss with my imaginary lover would be like.  Mmmm…The first kiss to dream of. One to blaze into the sky: writing all its power into in the hippocampus as a fluster of red-hot, soul-searching, discomposed, explosion of millions of electrons flowing from the lips to the chest, to the groins, and then down to the knees, with the mind saying in wonder: “Now I’ve truly lived.”

Have I ever experienced that kind of kiss? Mmmm…let me think.

Do you remember your first kiss Ladies? To many men, it’s a means to an end, but to ladies…I’m not sure. That first kiss is important.

My first kiss happened in the 6th grade. I was standing in the hallway, between classes, and out of nowhere came Jim Baine.  My first kiss was like being hit by a Mack truck. He was an 8^th grader…but he was big, and rather good looking in a masculine way. I had noticed him walking in the hallways, and thinking “Well, HE’s way out my league.” Kisses and sex were not even on my mind. (Thank God.)

And then one day, I was just standing up against the lockers, not many people in the hall, and out of nowhere, he came up, pushed me hard up against the wall, and kissed me long, and hard, with deep affection and I was like…”WTH?” And then he walked away. Neither one of us said a word.

Okay. Well. There you go. I guess that was a “kiss.” Gee. What now? If that’s a kiss, what happens NEXT? I thought. Is it like wrestling? Would I survive? LOL.

That one kiss upset the whole school.  You see, somebody saw that kiss and reported it to his girlfriend. By the end of that day, that girl, the meanest girl in the school, (Pam the golden Viking Slammer) who made it known she fought with brass knuckles, had gotten together about 30 of her friends, and decided to corner me in the hall and tell me they were going to beat me up. (sigh) All I kept telling them is that it was NOT my fault, and I could care less about him. He KISSED me! I kept repeating. If not for two brave boys in my class, standing between me and the mob, I might have gotten beat up.

So, I went home and ask my dad to teach me how to fight. I’m sure the teachers found out about the ‘plan’ to get that ‘she stole my boyfriend’ mob, and they were watching them, and so the next day, they all let me know, they would get me AFTER school.

Every day I went to school, and tried to stay away from her and her friends. Every day I came home and my brother and father taught me how to fight…fist fight. We had gloves, punching bags, you name it. It took many tries before I could land a good punch.

After a while I got sick of all the tension. The two boys kept by me, and protected me as much as they could, but I knew, one day, it would happen. Those boys couldn’t protect me forever.

So, I made a plan. I found out what bus “Pam” the blond Viking Queen of the middle school gang of terror was riding home on. I knew she would be alone without her backup, and I decided to challenge her.

I got on HER bus home. She saw me. It was a fall afternoon, sunny. And I was ready.

She got off the bus. So did I. I walked behind her and kept saying, “Come on Pam..fight me here. Right now. You want to beat me up? Here’s your chance. Come on. Do it. “

Well, that girl walked so fast, I think the leaves on the ground were flowing off the pavement. She went into the future she ran so fast. She broke into a run, and acted like she never even saw me. She was….scared. I guess she didn’t have her brass knuckles with her.

What happened?

Nobody in the school ever bothered me again. Nobody talked to me much either, but that’s nothing new.

You’ve heard these same bully lessons from boys, but it works for all bullies, I guess.

I think the boys spread it around that I had boxing lessons and it scared her. She said so much bad-ass rantings about how she was going to pulverized me, that even I was surprised she ran.

I went home and told my dad, “Dad, she just ran like a scared little girl?” My dad just smiled and change the channel.

My dad did tell me one thing: He said that a little guy can take a big guy out pretty easily. He had done it plenty of times. Even though, his older brother had broken his nose three times.

“Dad, how come your nose is so crooked?” My older brother broke it three times.

“Why” He just felt like it.

That older brother died in WWII in the Pacific, in the battle of Midway.

Did my dad give me courage? Well, no–. Pam was bigger than me, and really mad.

So, my first kiss was rather. Like being hit by a bus. A bus of unintentional consequences.

I had a lot more to say tonight, about kissing, but it’s getting late, so maybe I’ll go on with this kissing subject in Part II.

Guys? Girls? Go ahead—I dare you to tell me about your first kiss.

In the meantime, I’m going back to my wonderful imagination.

December 18, 2023 - Posted by Joyanna Adams | Uncategorized | fiction, kiss, love, Music, writing