Do you ever think about your first?

He's waiting for the right girl. . .

 

. . . to show his porn collection

 

Ceiling cat is watching.

 

Like Stan cares. That boy is into some scary, kinky, tubgirl level porn.

 

It's not my first, who I ranted about in a random thread once upon a time (*cough*Amy*cough*), but this will do ...

I was driving to my cousin's high school graduation after work a few years ago. It was a three-hour drive and I didn't leave until 2 a.m., so I knew I was going to amp myself up for driving (at least until I got to a city with a Sheetz, which was a ways away). So as I'm barrelling through the ruralest part of the Carolinas, I start thinking about the girls I've worked with, and who was the hottest. I rank them in a top 10, since everything in life needs to be quantified), and come to the conclusion that this one woman I worked with ONCE was the hottest -- not just because she was attractive, but she was a really cool person and we had some mutual friends I wouldn't have guessed, and I figured she'd be a superstar in short order.

Got to my destination, went to the graduation, then found out from my grandparents (who live where she worked) that she was killed in an accident like two weeks prior).

Now I think about early 90's songs and donut variety proposals when I drive long distances.

 

Speaking of the early 90s, "Hey Jealousy" just came on the radio.

 

I have a really weird story behind my first crush.

There was this girl named Michelle who rode the bus with me and was in my 2nd-grade class. Quiet girl, nice enough, but we didn't seem to have that much in common beyond homeroom and the bus.

One night, I had a dream about her. Nothing too outrageous--I was seven, for crying out loud--but I dreamed I liked her. the next day, I plopped down behind her in the bus and started talking to her. I must have impressed her because before I knew it the whole class knew we liked each other and our parents were setting up play dates. Mom would drive me down to her house, about a mile from ours, and chat with her mom while we chased each other around her bedroom (and while her sister and my sister, who were also the same age, played with dolls or some shit). I was bound and determined to kiss her, but kept chickening out.

A few days later, she was over my house and we were in the backyard in a little fort tucked behind some pine trees. I told her I wanted to kiss her and she said OK kiss me. So I closed my eyes and gave her the quickest peck on the lips ever (goddamnit! foreshadowing!). Then my mom came in the back yard and said it was time to take her home.

On the way home, my snarky little sister, who apparently was hiding in the garden while Michelle and I were swapping spit, told my mom I'd kissed Michelle. My mom started yelling at me about how I was too young to kiss girls and how this wasn't right and it had to stop right away. And it did: Sometime soon thereafter, Michelle said she didn't like me anymore. I think I drowned my sorrows with shots of Kool-Aid and endless playings of "Endless Love."

She ended up being the first kiss for my best friend Scott, too. Good goddamn, thats another great bit of foreshadowing too: Years and years later, the girl I lusted after during my senior year in HS took the virtue of my best friend...another kid named Scott.

So yeah. Dan Hartman wrote "I Can Dream About You" about me and Michelle from 2nd grade.

 

The first girl i liked was Detra. We were always great friends and i was too chickenshit to ask her out. She's now married and has a kid.

 

Not until now I didn't think about it, but ...

Kim Doughty. Loved her from first grade on. Had a million classes with her all the way through high school because we were both in the "gifted" program. We "went together" in whatever grade you do that sort of thing (I'm thinking junior high, maybe before), but then she went on to become queen of the cool kid universe and I went on to be ... whatever I was.

She was a cheerleader at Alabama and later for the Cowboys, and married a guy a couple of years older who was completely unworthy. She'd definitely have been better off with me.

 

Sarah Knepper. We were probably the only kindergarteners in history to get busted for PDA. ... We didn't even know what it meant to "go steady," but that's what we did. Sat together at every lunch, paired up for every project, hung out during every recess, stood in line together to catch the school bus every afternoon and ... kissed each other goodbye. I say almost because our teacher, Mrs. Dart, caught us one day and told us to stop. She winked when she said it, so she must have thought it was cute.

And I remember the next fall, during some kind of orientation for first grade, when they brought all of the ex-kindergarteners into one room in the "big" elementary school and called our names out to let us know which first-grade class we'd be in that year. They went alphabetically, so when her name was called out she went to sit in the group with her class and I crossed my fingers that when my name was called I'd be in the same group. But I wasn't. And after I went over to stand with my class, she gave me a wave and she had this incredibly sad look on her face. I'll never forget it.

Our classes were in different parts of the building, and I remember looking down her hallway when we were heading to the lunchroom, hoping to catch a glimpse of her. But I never did. Eventually, I didn't look as hard and I didn't look for her every day like I did early on that school year. ... I moved three states away before second grade, and never saw her again.

I can't really remember her face anymore, but I'll never forget how my heart sunk when I saw that look on her face that day. Have no clue what she's done with her life, what she's like now, or if she remembers anything from that year, but sometimes you cross paths with people for a short while and they leave a lasting impression. Sarah Knepper was one of those for me, 20 years later.

 

I randomly found her on MySpace a year or so ago. Hadn't seen her in years, but you don't forget some faces.

Kind of a letdown. I mean, she's single and all, and keeps in touch regularly, but...she seems kinda lame now. Not that I'm the Fonz by any stretch of the imagination, but you get the idea.

 

My first crush was in kindergarten. My folks sent me to one of those K-12 private church schools. I had a crush on a senior.

As far my other first, sometimes I'll be at a bar or on the bus and there's some gal [not to be confused with Bad Gal Zero] that has just the right balance of cigarette and makeup reekness happening. It never fails to take me back to that first clumsy sexual encounter in the fall of 1986.