Puckering Up, Just Like Grandma Always Did

Every now and then, I catch myself thinking back to what I was doing a year ago. I do this a lot around my birthday, summer, and undoubtedly every New Year’s. But last week, I caught myself doing it when I saw his eyeball peek out at me from behind the elevator door.

As soon as it looked at me, I panicked and started speed-walking to the parking lot. It wasn’t like I hadn’t seen him since our dating debacle. I think he and I even had lunch together in the late winter or early spring. But something about seeing that eyeball now made me flushed and flustered. And I sprinted away.

He was the guy I thought I liked before I met Mr. Wonderful.

I work on the 5th floor, he works on the 4th. A coworker knew we were both single and asked me if I’d like to meet him. Still resting comfortably in rebound mode after The Cheater, I said yes. Work Guy was a computer nerd and owned a condo, a cat, and a synthesizer (actually a whole room’s worth of them). He sounded safe and appealed to my sweet spot for geeks, so the decision was a no-brainer.

Drawn to his adorable social awkwardness, I jumped at the chance when he asked me out. After several hours of sushi eating, Tetris playing and TV watching, I was smitten. It was the beginnings of nerd love. He didn’t kiss me that night, nor after the next date. I figured he was shy and would need a little friendly coercing.

So on date #3, as we cuddled on the couch, in the dim light of the television, I tried to make myself look as harmless and kissable as possible. He rubbed his hand along my leg. I smiled and yawned.

“It’s pretty late…you can just stay here if you want,” he said. Jackpot.

He loaned me some sweats and a toothbrush, and I couldn’t help but laugh as I climbed into bed next to him. It felt extremely odd to be hopping in the sack with someone whom I’d never even had any sort of mouthial contact. He turned off the light and snuggled up next to me. I rolled over and felt for his face. When my lips found his, I was met by a completely scrunched granny pucker.

I thought it was a joke, so I pulled away and giggled, then went back in for the real deal. It was slightly better, but he Would Not Open His Mouth At All. I didn’t notice any other symptoms of lockjaw, but apparently he’d come down with a case of it. I pressed myself against him and tried to break down the anti-tongue barrier, but no luck. Eventually, he tired of our fifth grade kissing antics and laid his head down to go to sleep.

It was mind-boggling. I was lying in bed with a 35-year old, straight man and he wanted nothing to do with me. I didn’t want the whole enchilada or anything, just a nice make-out session with some groping.

We had one more overnight date after that. This time with NO kissing at all. I couldn’t figure him out, so I gave up.

Weeks later, he IMed me at work, calling me “Fastlane Playa.” Uhh because I wanted to do More Than Peck On Our THIRD DATE?! He asked when we could go out again. I asked why he would want to go out with me when he didn’t even want physical contact. He said, “What do you mean? We kissed!” I’ve gotten more action from a wooden spoon I licked after making brownies.

I never went out with him again. He contacted me several more times to say hi and rehash why things hadn’t “gone anywhere” with us. I’m hoping by now, he has gotten over his TMJ or grown a tongue or solved whatever the problem was.

Funny how different things can seem when you look back a year...