I hope I have painted an accurate picture of my dating self way back in high school. I was naive. I was devoutly Christian. I was dedicated to a young man 500 miles away whom I might have seen twice a year. Looking back, I was pretty doggone innocent of the ways of the world! I didn't have a lot of experience in sexuality (and glad I didn't)! In short, I was a dweeb.
One of my best friends in junior high and high school was a gal named Kathy. Kathy came from a well-to-do family, and we all just clicked. (I think it bothered my mother that we could not reciprocate the kind of environment that I had at Kathy's house.) K and I would meet after school to do homework together. We'd get giggly and stupid, as all teenage girls do, but if our studying ran over into the dinner hour, it was not unusual for a plate for me to appear on their dinner table. (That worked the same for my house, too, but K always had to ask first what we were having for dinner. If it was liver and onions, she would decline the invitation to stay. My family was notorious for having things like that...)
ANYWAY, Kathy was in my grade in 6th grade, and her brother was a year below us. Both of them were very smart and were both skipped a grade the next year. Kathy went to 8th from 6th, and Donnie went from 5th to 7th--in with me. We still kept our friendship intact, but our circle of friends changed a bit. By the time we were in high school, she was a senior to my junior. We went through different things, but we were still thick.
During Kathy's senior year, her family hosted a Danish exchange student named Bo. Since Bo was now a part of her family, and I was also a part of her family, we often had some banter. Bo was fluent in English, but he was European...and they do things differently over there. For one thing, he was a bit resentful that he could not drink beer in America, although he could at home. From time to time, he would make fun of our teenage American sayings--mostly exclamations like "cool" and "keen".
Toward the end of the year, there was a school dance, and Bo invited me to be his date--kind of as a "brotherly" act. Kathy had a date, too, but we didn't go together. After the dance, I was to spend the night at Kathy's house. (Everything was on the up-and-up, in case you are wondering.) When Bo and I returned from the dance, we sat in the parlor to talk for awhile. Then the dear boy made a move on me. He kissed me. Whaaaat??? He stuck his tongue in my mouth! I had never been French kissed...had never even HEARD of French kissing...and was totally grossed out!!
I broke up that little soiree quite quickly after that! Went up to Kathy's room to await her arrival, and Bo retired to his room. (It was a huge house.) When K came home, I told her what had happened. She apparently told her parents about it, and they had a little talk with Bo about how "we don't do that in this country". I was totally mortified--first, that I didn't know how to handle the situation when it happened, and second, that he had to be talked to about it. I'm pretty sure that Bo and I had no other social contact after that. I never told my parents about it.
I learned MUCH later about French kissing. In America, it is associated with excitement and extreme passion--not a first-date, cordial kiss. Apparently, Europeans have other ideas! So there you have it, folks. I got my first French kiss from a Danish dude who had no romantic interest in me but was, I guess, only doing what he thought was expected. I would have made a horrible European!
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