First Kiss

There aren’t too many ’49 Mount Pleasant Tigers left from a class of  less than 100. I recall some memorable happens, but just this past month, I learned of the passing of one of my high school crushes. My dating was limited since no girl would be too excited riding on a bicycle, but there were some bright spots like the time of the Thespian Club initiation. It was 1948 and new members were gathered with the club at the entrance to the high school. Our sponsor had unlocked the front door and there were ribbons taped to the wall over the upstairs  water fountain. Two-by-two, we were to enter the darkened building, climb the stairs and remove and return a ribbon. My partner was one of my ‘crushes’ and I was shocked when, just as we reached the water fountain, Bettye grabbed and kissed me….on the LIPS! I am certain that I didn’t return the kiss. At that moment all I could do was lock my knees. She smiled, linked elbows and led me down to the group. (I now suspect all that was on a dare from her friends, but I thought we were ‘steadies’.) Talk about dumb! She, like most of the girls in my class, was only interested in ‘older men’. I escorted her to our Senior Prom and returned her, unharmed, to her present husband, John. He was waiting for us in a booth at Shorty Alexander’s Café. It saddens me when I lose friends, however there is HOPE that we shall reunite in the company of a Loving GOD. I later wished I had one more chance to ‘lay-one-on-her!, but those lights had been turned out; that party was over. Good night dear friend…later. That’s what I get from My Box of Chocolates.  AMEN

2 thoughts on “First Kiss

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.