First Kiss

It was a sunny spring day, the first day of 1st grade. There I was, wearing my first pair of jeans that weren’t hand-me-downs from my brother, a bright yellow T-shirt, and new glasses from Sears. Feeling good with the sun on my shoulder, I walked into school. My teacher was Mrs. Ashford. The Pizza Hut Book It program may have made me a chunky little buddy, but no one could read as well as me! I was ready to meet new friends and learn cursive. This was the first year with all-day school, which meant a few new things. First, lunchtime—I was prepared to dazzle and impress with my Mystery Machine Scooby-Doo lunch box. Did it have a matching thermos full of milk? Rubby rubby roo, it did. The next new thing was the biggest: recess! Schools always have the best playgrounds! I was ready to be the king of 1st grade.

Well, King, maybe not so much. You see, my school had a “Joey.” The meanest, nastiest graduate of the Farkas University. From my first step in the building, there he was, pointing out to everyone the fat kid in the yellow shirt. From then on, he always called me Sunny. Jerk! Luckily, he was not in my class. The first half of the day was fine. I was excited about lunch and recess.

Lunch was okay. I sat with the chubby wubby chibbles club. Good guys, lots of snacks to share. I did hear Joey teasing other folks, so I just tried to stay close to the wall so he did not notice me. If my new friends knew, they never said. I told you, a good bunch. I knew if I just made it to recess, everything would be fine.

Well, good, maybe not so much. You see, Joey was waiting for me to come out of the door. He pretended to be friendly to me. Took me to the slide, and there was mud all around it. Shoving me down, dirtying my new pants and my yellow shirt. There was no fixing that.

I ran over to some bushes by the wall and tried to hide. Hey, listen, I've always been so tough I could cry, and that is what I did then. I was embarrassed, and I had to go the rest of the day dirty. I was so upset; no one wants to be friends with the dirty kid. I was so alone in that moment.

Well, alone, not for long. This yellow-haired angel in a Punky Brewster jumpsuit came over to me. She told me it would be okay to trust her. She helped me clean up. She told me there were only a few Joeys in the world, and most people were nice. “Let’s go play!”

We spent all recess playing on the swings. Okay, so I was just a young fella, but there was something special about her. I just did not know what. Why was I so nervous with her? I could not take my eyes off her. Before the end of recess, she asked if I felt better. I did, I really did. Then she kissed me on the cheek and ran inside. OMG! She kissed me! Can you believe it? Momma, your baby boy done come up. Wait… What was her name? Oh no! She’s not in my class. I hope I see her tomorrow.

Well, I did not see her again. I didn’t know why. Gone to a new school? Was she a dream? Perhaps.

I learned to survive the “Joeys” of the world. I survived 1st grade and every grade after. I did fine in school. Had friends, girlfriends, and lots of fun. I guess sometimes what you need just appears. I never quite forgot her. The smile on her face, that giggle, how somehow, she made me feel safe. I never forgot the feeling I felt when she kissed my cheek. One of life’s moments that we remember in slow motion. I knew I’d never see her again; the memory was a fond one.

Well, there she was. I was working my first job at the pizza store in the Kmart. Y’all remember Kmart? You see, that was my first job, and I was good at it. I would get off the school bus and start walking to work. Good times. I did dishes, ran the cash register, and, most of all, made pizza. I had a lot of fun and learned a lot about showmanship there. I twirled dough in the air. I flipped the tools when taking the pizza out of the oven. If customers were in the store, I was P.T. Barnum incarnate. Then one day, she walked in!

I would never have guessed it. I could never forget her eyes, her smile, and that glow that made her shine unmistakable. I would have recognized her in a crowd of thousands. Today it was just her, and she wanted crazy bread. So funny the way life works. Some small moment that sticks in your brain. Now here I am, face to face with a memory. A dream? Does she even remember me? Ha, doubt that. I can’t even think straight.

Well, she did remember. “Mike, everything okay? Can I please have some crazy bread?” Oh yeah, the crazy bread is coming right up. Wait a minute… Ugh! She just read my name tag. There I was, breathless, putting breadsticks in the oven. Watching my one shot disappear. I had to pull it together.

The showman kicked in. I was putting on the show of my life. Pulling bread out of the oven, flipping them like pancakes as I did. Twirling my tools like pistols. Dancing as I spread butter and parmesan. I heard her giggle from behind me. I got this!

Well, as I turned around, there was a fella walking towards me. She called him “Steve.” Dumb name if I ever heard one. No offense if you're a Steve. You can’t be offended; I said no offense. He inquired what was taking so long. She explained how I was making it fresh and said, “He is so entertaining.” I rang them up, and she smiled so sweetly and thanked me by name. “Thank you, Mike. They smell yummy!” At least I knew she was real. Still not sure if she remembered me. Why did this make me feel so funny? Why am I sad? I guess you never get over your first crush, your first kiss.

Time flies, and life changes. I met a girl at Kmart, and years later, we were wed. Life is good. We own a little house where we started our life. Several jobs later, I am working at the paint store. Same energy, different product. One long tiring day and the boss had gone home. I’m stuck closing the store. The sun was setting as she walked through the door. Oof! That feeling! I’m happily married, but that rush of emotions of a day long ago still hits me. Her eyes, that smile, the glow… what is wrong with me? Weirdo. At least “Steve” was not with her. Yes, I said that snarkily. Is that a word?

Well, who walks in just as I’m greeting her but butthead… I mean Steve. I think he is too old for her, but that’s none of my business. He stays out of the way, mostly sitting on some boxes. Every question gets a “Whatever you want” response. There I was, back in front of her, just as awestruck as the last two times. This girl who absolutely has no idea I even exist, me, stuck on a small moment of kindness. She did remember my name. She kept calling me Mike. Oh, I know you're thinking, name tag. You might be right. Who’s telling this story?

We spent about 30 minutes, her asking questions and me making paint. A few gallons of paint, some brushes, a smile, and complicated feelings later, she was once again out of my life. Three encounters and still no name given. It is a little easier this time. Remember, I am a happily married man.

Well, I was. It turns out the wife felt differently. I came home one day to the “we got to talk” talk. Truly, this was for the best for both of us. Her passions, as it was, lay elsewhere. After all these years, I was back on my own. I left our marital house one day and left it all behind. I left it all. Starting from scratch, just me and my sadness. Divorce is a funny thing. Even when it’s for the best, it hurts like hell.

I took the opportunity to work on myself and my life. My life was totally reinvented in the span of a few months. I bought a new house, got a new job, bought all new home furnishings. A new Mike for a new day. That said, I poured myself into work to hide from the pain of my loneliness. I went out a few times… Love just wasn’t for me. Alone was where I was going to be for a long time.

Well, except for Yahoo Personals. You see, kids, back at the beginning of the world, there was AOL, and it was good. As time went on, there were two new upstarts, Google and Yahoo. Google was fun and all. Yahoo was where it was at. Back in those days, if you weren’t on Yahoo, you were a square. One New Year’s Eve, I put myself out there on the net. I took a photo of myself with my new