It happened again! The goddamn universe and its mysterious ways! I swear to God, I can’t make this stuff up.
So the reason I asked Zach about kissing in the first place was that I had gone out on a date last weekend and when the time came to make my move, I didn’t, and got a perfunctory peck-on-the-cheek consolation prize instead, but it was totally cool because I really liked the woman and knew that I’d eventually have another shot at it. As it happens, she lives just a few blocks away and we made a plan to see each other soon.
We started emailing in the beginning of the week and it was filled with all of the usual witty, flirty, semi-charming banter (which I will kindly spare you here) and the upshot was that we’re going out again on Friday night.
Full disclosure: one of the reasons I kinda, sorta in a completely innocent, non-scumbaggy kind of way wrote yesterday’s blog was so I could send it to her as a kissing ice breaker, admitting my history of apprehension and other assorted squirreliness, and lo and behold, she liked it! I believe her exact words were “You’re making me crazy.” To which I responded “GOOD!” She then sent me another email that said, “By the way, you should.” And I immediately sent one back saying, “I fully intend to.” And we exchanged some flirtier, kissier emails that made us both smile, to say nothing of feeling like we were in a John Hughes movie.
Now here’s where the goddamn universe comes in: I went to the local Rite-Aid late yesterday afternoon because I was out of kitchen garbage bags and Arizona Diet Arnold Palmer (I am the George Clooney of Park Slope) and I’m standing on line at the checkout, listening to that Kendrick Lamar song I love, and guess who walks in?
That’s right! Like I said, I cannot make this stuff up.
She looked at me and I looked at her and for a few surreal moments, it was totally disorienting like we were in each other’s dream because just a few minutes ago we were emailing about the logistics of our first kiss (I’m also the General David Petraeus of Park Slope and, as you well know, my own biographer), and now we were face to face and I hadn’t even brushed my teeth.
“This is so crazy,” she said and started to laugh.
“I think we should kiss right here,” I said, and we were both smiling hard yet acting a little bit shy.
“I have stage fright,” she admitted and looked away for a second as her beautiful face turned slightly red.
“So do I!” I said. “I think everyone does.”
“I’m actually here to buy toilet paper,” she said. “Sexy, right?”
“Tell you what,” I said. “Lemme check out and I’ll come find you.”
She was shopping in the back, near the stationery section. “Do you think they have birthday candles?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” I said, “but let’s kiss.”
And we did. Right next to the Christmas ornaments and Dark and Lovely hair care products, under the glaring yet strangely romantic fluorescent Rite-Aid lights, we kissed and then paused for a moment to look into each other’s smiling eyes and then gently kissed again and began to breath heavily and then paused to drunkenly smile at each other and then sweetly, juicily, tenderly kissed one more time until someone on the store intercom ordered a cleanup on aisle Larry.
Best. First. Kiss. Ever.