First kiss

It wasn't the stuff of movies but it was memorable. My third girl friend was named Tammy, don't worry we will be going back to number two later. Tammy was a girl that I bowled with in the YBC and she seemed like a nice girl who enjoyed the same things as me, including Madonna. In fact, we went to a Madonna concert together, which should have been a sign. She was a very straight forward girl, much like most of the girls I dated and/or married. She was not shy and would say or do whatever she wanted.

I realized quickly where this alpha female came from when I attended dinner at her house where she lived with her parents. Perhaps it was unexpected that she was bringing me to dinner but I found it a little odd and chaotic to be eating dinner with her parents and two siblings in a small kitchen table when the dining room was sitting empty. Also surprising to me was the menu consisting of ground hamburger fried up accompanied by powdered mashed potatoes. Either I was spoiled by my mother's cooking or her mother just wasn't the best cook.

Explaining the dinner was necessary because it gives you background on the quality of what was coming. Picture it, we were hanging out in my teenage bedroom with lakeside cottage wallpaper on the wall and surrounded by collectible plates, masks, nicknacks and scifi toys. This girl can tell that I am not going to make the first move further than hugging or holding hands and she goes for it. The second she pressed her lips to mine she inserts her tongue all the way in. I have blocked out the rest because it was very wet and slippery and not at all what I expected.

We didn't "go together" long, maybe three months and I don't even remember if we kissed anymore. Like I said earlier, we went to a Madonna concert together but it was after we had broken up. She even accused me of only dating her to get to see the concert, which didn't stop her from trying to hold my hand during the concert. That wouldn't be the last time that a woman tried to entice me back.

In conclusion, teenage first kisses are over rated but after years of practice and tons of accolades, I enjoy adult first kisses much more.

It burns

Grade 9 was such an eye-opener for me, as I'm sure it has been for my daughter this year. One of the things that surprised me were the kids that were older than me who somehow failed courses. Not only did they fail courses once, but twice or three times and I had a grade 12 student in my grade 9 art or religion class. How do you fail art or religion?!

My grade 9 religion class was held in one of the many portable classrooms my high school had and has now replaced with a super build. The teacher was a deacon or layman's pastor who was beyond socially awkward. It was rumoured that he actually fell out of the window of the portable classroom during a lecture and just kept talking while he brushed himself off and walked back in through the door. Being shy, I usually sat in a desk near the back to go unnoticed. Also trying to go unnoticed was the 6' tall grade 12 boy behind me who I tried to ignore.

During one class I started to feel a warmth on my hind quarters. I turned around to find out what the guy was up to and he played innocent. This kept happening until the class ended and I stayed in my seat as everyone left for their next class. Approaching the teacher and prefacing my request as strange I asked him to look at the back of my pants. Scorch marks. The guy behind me was using his lighter to basically burn me alive.

Luckily the pants were cords and not the polyester/wool dress pants required in later years or else I would have actually caught fire. Phone calls were made, pants were replaced and buddy was expelled. I often wonder what would have happened if he had succeeded in lighting me on fire. What I don't wonder is where he is today, jail sounds about right.

The barber missed a spot

I was fired from my first job as a teenager because I was serving up more than 2.5oz of ice cream per customer while leaving a hollow spot in the middle. My second job was pretty cool, a gourmet hot dog stand in the mall. A step up from the food court because we had fancy wieners. I really enjoyed working there and my honesty actually got a cash register skimmer fired. But this has nothing really to do with the fact that I did pay attention to one very specific trend from the 80's, a rat tail!

Yes, I wore a rat tail. I even grew it to 12 inches long. But back to working at the dog booth, one night I was working by myself and it was getting close to closing time. This older man came up to the counter and I could smell the alcohol on his breath from 4 feet away. He was having trouble deciding what to order, most likely due to the amount of booze he had consumed in the bar next door so I busied myself with closing up duties until he was ready to order. This included me turning my back on the customer, at which point I heard "What the f@*& is wrong with your hair?!"

"Excuse me?"

"Looks like the barber missed a spot at the back."

I turned his attention to the food order and he picked out his choice with optional toppings then met me at the end of the counter to pay. He stared at me strangely then sat on a bench nearby to eat. Paying no more attention to the drunk man, I went back to closing up shop until I heard a horrible retching sound coming from his direction. The fool had started choking on his damn hot dog and was throwing up in the garbage can. Karma.

He disappeared quickly after that. I learned something that night, have pizza after getting drunk. Oh, and don't be a dick or you'll choke on a wiener.

Getting pricked for the first time

I was a pretty 'straight laced' teenager. My mother still picked out my clothes for the first couple of years of high school when there was a dress code. I'm still pretty uninterested in being dressed in the latest fashions or trends. Who can keep up and besides, it all comes back around again. The 80's are back and that was when I was a teenager. One trend for boys back then was to get an earring.

It wasn't even something I contemplated but it was made a consideration when my sister wanted to get one extra piercing in one of her ears. Our frugal mother didn't want to pay for ear piercing and not get two ears pierced so she offered up one of my ears. Not many boys at school were pierced but somehow I felt brave enough to do walk the halls dawning a golden hoop in my left ear (not the 'gay' ear).

We went to the Bay in the mall and mom explained to the piercing lady that we were to each get one piercing, my sister and I. I went first, the cold metal gun cupping my earlobe, the loud click as the gun pushed the metal through and struck the backing, then the warm feeling creeping up my ear followed by a pulsating throbbing. Done. Next. Wait. My sister didn't have enough earlobe left before the cartilage began and their policy was no piercing cartilage. No deal. What?! I did this for nothing?!

They ended up just poking a crooked hole between the other two piercings already in my sister's earlobe. We got our two for one deal. I walked around worried that some bully would yank it from my ear, thanks to my mother's paranoia and horror stories. I'm not even sure if my sister still has that piercing but it wouldn't be my last one and I may yet get pricked again.

First date, that never was

My very first date actually never happened. I remember it very clearly because it was a really silly situation but in retrospect, I probably dodged another bullet. It was grade nine and I made friends with a group of girls who all had crushes on me at one point or another throughout high school and you'll meet each one later. Today you get to meet Cindy, the studious, the analytical, the brain.

We were sort of set up by our friend Lisa, the mouth. It was decided that the three of us would all go to a movie, The Golden Child to be specific. We were to meet at the mall in front of the theater to buy tickets and I'm sure Lisa planned to ditch Cindy and I at some point in order for things to take their natural course. As usual I was early and stood around looking like a dork. By the time the movie time came and went I never saw the girls so, feeling dejected, I went home. It didn't even occur to me to go into the movie anyway, but how would I have missed them standing right beside the theater entrance?

Turns out I did miss them and they went ahead and saw the movie, thinking I had ditched them. Snafu. This is probably the point of OCD birth. No amount of apologies made up for this so we took it as a sign to just be friends. And we did for the rest of high school, becoming confidants, sagely offering advice on each others love lives, sharing difficulties and even endeavoring to write a song together. That is until a sad and challenging life occurence would befall her family and we parted ways with bad feelings on both sides which would be a common secondary theme to my life.

To this day I have tried finding her to make amends but even a heartfelt message on facebook has gone unanswered. I have to wonder if she has decided to leave her past in the past and that includes me. I can understand wanting to do that and the bravery it takes to start a whole new life. Seems to me that is an intrinsic part of life, starting over, having first dates over and over again. This time, however, I plan to go into the theater and see what awaits me.

Dating the daughter of the king of the trash heap

If you remember, I talked about spending time with my family at a trailer park for the summers and how there were different classes of people who used the park. Understand that I am not necessarily talking about class in reference to income because there are exceptions to the stereotypes placed on each level. We were quite a typical middle-class, blue-collar family with the drive to aspire to more both in terms of our finances and our stations in life when it pertained to our demeanor and visible behaviours. Not everyone cared about keeping up appearances and let the red of their neck show.

Between grade 8 and 9 I started to date this girl in the park who was taller and a whole year older than me. So mature! Or so I thought. I was only just starting to learn about myself and my body and the changes that were happening, so to say I was confused was an understatement. I was also a bundle of hormones because just holding her hand 'set me off' as she put it when she realized what was happening as we walked along the beach. I had a difficult time walking. ;)

Upon meeting her family, the first recorded incident of my second sense ability appeared when I immediately felt uncomfortable with her father. My own father was a little rough around the edges but he didn't seem creepy like this dude did. To prove my point, he told his daughter that if I got her pregnant that he would cut off the offending appendage and force it down my esophagus. Oh, and kudos to the girl for telling me, that really improves my opinion of your father and family for that matter.

We never got to second base and I kept her at bay for the most part of our one month of 'going together'. I believe I had to break up with her twice before it stuck but the point was it would never have worked out and if she knew now what I do then she would thank me. Perhaps her father would have an opinion on that as well and if so would he rethink his punishment? Dodging bullets has become second nature. Rising above the heap has always been the plan.

Out of Africa

I grew up in a small town outside of Toronto, where it was pretty white washed. I think there were Asian kids in my grade school but I don't remember them [ironic]. The big deal was when the first black kids started school with us right after they moved here from Africa. Even though I hadn't seen too many visible minorities before this, it didn't phase me, in fact I became friends with the girl in my grade/class who I witnessed face racism square in the face.

I'm fairly certain we all know where racism stems from, fear and ignorance. Children may have a less clouded view of the world but they still hold onto the values and views of their parents and this is especially evident on the playground. The playground is also where I learned the power of words and how they can hurt. At first they hurt the person we use them on, then they hurt the user. Specific details escape me today but I do remember that I repeated seemingly innocent words spoken by someone else which hurt my new friend. In return she slapped me across the face.

I believe we worked out what happened because we stayed friends, that is until puberty hit and then the girls didn't want any boys spending as much time with them as I had been. Even though we ran in different circles, we stayed casual friends in high school and I was always proud of her accomplishments; honour role, athletics, popularity. As with any small town, once you graduate you move on and lose touch with the friends who were on the outside of your chore group but I was surprised to see her on the TTC some ten years later.

Having grown into my adult skin a little more, I was able to initiate a conversation and I remember to this day because I now possessed the power of words and was able to use them more maturely. After explaining what I was doing for work I promptly asked what she was doing, because she was such an accomplished student and athlete. She kind of danced around the subject saying that she was between projects at the moment to which I asked if she was unemployed. 'I'm a film-maker' was her explanation at which point I reiterated, 'so you're unemployed'. We laughed. We parted ways. If we met again I would be able to say that I am now between projects.

P.S. My first year after high school was spent attending George Brown College where I was the visible minority to an 80% black student body. Didn't stop me from dressing like a NKOTB.