The Cute English One

Since I’ve started this retrospective chain of posts, and nothing of note is presently happening, I suppose I’ll continue with a best kiss memory.

One summer I attended a family reunion with a good friend of mine. It was her family reunion mind you, this story is not about to take that type of turn. Anyway, once again there was drinking involved which I hope doesn’t spell out a pattern for me in terms of needing to lower my inhibitions just to have a little fun. That is just lame.

For the first couple hours my friend’s sister kept poking me in the side telling me that their cousin James liked me. He really liked me she emphasized with raised eyebrows and a knowing smile. It pretty much made me want to hide. I suppose maybe that’s why I kept drinking, despite not being able to handle it very well. It gave me the courage to stick around and see what would happen next.

James eventually got me alone, which I didn’t make easy for him, however I didn’t make it impossible because I thought he was cute and kind of gave him a kiss the night before on our way out of the pre-family reunion party. Oh did I forget to mention that? If I actually knew how to play hard to get I suppose you could say that’s what I was doing. But I don’t and so my avoidance was due to my not knowing what the hell I was doing as opposed to intentionally trying to bait him.

We chatted for a little while, him asking questions and me answering in monosyllables but not out of disinterest. As I said before, shyness coupled with not knowing what the hell to do left me kind of speechless. When he called me on it the truth just came flying out. Big surprise.

James: You are one hard lady to chat up! I’m trying to flirt with you here.
QueenVee: Oh! I’m sorry, I’m terrible at this. I don’t know how to flirt.
James: What? What do you mean? All you gotta do is talk…
QueenVee: I know, but it’s not easy. Guys don’t approach me often.
James: WHAT? You’re kidding. Every guy in this room wants to kiss you. You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen!

It went on like this for a while. He absolutely refused to believe how inexperienced I was, despite the telling blush under the alcohol red. He told me a lot about his life, and I suppose I reciprocated but I don’t remember. All I do recall is being nervous, tipsy and happy at the same time. Eventually he had enough.

James: Can I kiss you?
QueenVee: What? Here?
James: Yes, why not?
QueenVee: In front of your entire family? Omg, no. I can’t kiss you inside. Outside maybe.
James: Really? If I take you outside right now you’ll kiss me?
QueenVee: (looks nervously around) Yes.
James: Let’s go!

He grabbed my hand and we were outside the pub in moments, lips locked, arms threaded, my back against the wall. A few minutes later my friend leaned out the window and snapped a picture. I’m not sure I’ve forgiven her yet for it, but at the very least it's proof I wasn't dreaming!