#34 First French Kiss

I need a love to keep me happy. I need a love to keep me happy.

Baby.

Happy.

Sorry to go there, but the tongue: The Rolling Stones tongue. Mick’s lips and tongue.

It’s all about the tongue; the iconic tongue. The organ inside the mouth required for speech, taste and swallowing is also necessary for French kissing.

Um, French?

Gross? No! Don’t go back to the early days of basement make-out parties, spin the bottle, truth or dare, cause if you do you will remember the sick strange moment when you realized someone else was doing it and you would, too. No pressure, maybe some actual excitement and a tiny weak heart and hard moisture in the nether region. Swapping spit and feeling the fleshy other person’s tongue that is just like your own poking around and licking the inside of your mouth. Not even remotely sexy. Yet.  Is this how sexy starts?  It doesn’t seem natural, but when you do it for the first time nature really has very little investment in the behavior. 

It’s pretty much a copy cat crime.

And you people on the subway. Why do you do this to us? WHY? What is wrong with you? We cannot escape your slimy, in your own little bubble affection. Why do you need to do this for the first time with all of us sitting there watching you?  Do you really feel more comfortable with an audience of strangers pretending not to look at you? Does this make you feel like you are in some private pocket, playing out your first tongue kiss with your equally inexperienced, inept, tongue kiss partner? Is this something you want to tell your grandchildren about someday? 

Does this historic moment make you proud?

No, you aren’t thinking, are you?! Only that tongue of yours is operating on it’s own accord. Doing it’s little tongue thing. It’s little pink swirly dance.

Happy. Baby gonna keep you happy.