2000-08-03 | 07:02:04

i was a late bloomer. actually, i'm a tardy person in all aspects of life. i'm late to work every day. late to meet friends. late to appointments. but, for real, a late bloomer socially speaking.

ok. are you sitting down? over a relatively soft surface?

my first kiss was not behind a baseball diamond backstop in grade school. my first kiss was not in a steamy borrowed car in high school. my first kiss was not in a college dorm room decorated with duran duran posters and dhurrie rugs.

my first kiss didn't happen until i was the ripe old age of 25.

quit blinking and rubbing your eyes, man. yeah, 25! ok, some of you reading this are 25 as we speak. can you imagine just having had your first kiss a month or so ago? hell no!

ok, so that last question was just to wrench an extra hiccup of sympathy from you.

how does one find themselves unkissed at such an advanced age? well, combine incredible shyness with a restrictive, religious background, plus awkward looks (butt ugly glasses, skinny legs, braces) and you're screwed. or rather, not screwed.

i had a mighty fear of boys. they struck terror in my heart. oh, sure, i had the typical K-12 crushes. i read teen beat and lusted after shaun cassidy. my doo run run did run run run for him. and, of course, i had the hots for randolf mantooth of "emergency!" and for that mullet-wearing cutie on "here come the brides"-- bobby sherman. and, could i forget my first "real boy" crush, richard b.?
i think not. i think not. i really fell for him, if ya know what i mean. wink, wink, nudge, nudge, say no more.

my freshman year of high school, i had a major crush on a senior. george. wowza! blonde. burly. football player-y. not so smart, but oh so cute. everything that's not my type now. i plotted my plan for seduction. my secret weapon?

love's baby soft cologne. still only $5.99 at drugstore near you.

absorb that for a minute. these were the days of roller disco and lip smackers. any girl who wanted to have huggable, lip gloss-smearable appeal needed to smell soft. baby soft.

my mom bought me a bottle of the potent pink potion. i spritzed it and tried to waft by george in the locker area. the big fella's olfactory senses did not come through, sadly enough. my love's baby soft was no match for the senior girls packing curves under their angora sweaters.

so, shy nerd me worked on the yearbook and had one best friend i did everything with. saturday nights, i'd be parked in front of the tv at my grandma's house watching, in this order, "the lawrence welk show" (ah, lovely, lovely ladies!), "emergency!" (come in, rampart.), "the love boat" (oh, gofer, you scamp!) and, if my grandma was feeling generous, "fantasy island" (smiles, everyone! smiles!). at some point "the golden girls" entered the line-up (ma!).

college awoke a new lust within me, which i directed at two extremely handsome young blokes, ken and robert, who gave me the time of day, but not much else. i was still dorky in my polo shirts and boat shoes, bad haircuts and agoraphobia. or was that angoraphobia?

ken and i had a song. ok, he didn't know about our melody. and probably would have looked into a restraining order if he had, but i thought of him each time it played on the radio or hummed it when i saw him walking up the steps to the men's dormitory.

are you sitting down? on a relatively soft surface? it was "hello" by lionel ritchie. ahahaha! i would hum the tune when i thought of him..."hello...is it me you're looking for?" ken was a cutie. but a rich snobby jerk, when all was said and done.

robert. ah, robert! what cheekbones! civilizations could be built and made to flourish on such cheekbones! he reminded me of james darren in the movie "gidget." my dream was that he would be my moondoggie...i his sandra dee. he was incredibly cool, too. all into joe jackson's "jumpin' jive" and recreating the dance steps from the "thriller" video. he wore his hair in a semi-pompadour and smelled of drakkar noir cologne.

i loved the way he smelled so much, i bought some drakkar noir for myself and would take a hit off my wrist whenever i wanted to swoon. robert was mexican. i remember learning the word "cholo" and thinking i was so hip to know some spanish slang. i thought it meant something like "dude."

one day, i saw robert sitting on the girls' dorm steps. i gathered my courage and spurted out, "hey, cholo!" thinking that he'd be knocked out by my bilingual jive talk. well, it didn't go over quite as planned. evidently i had put him down in serious way. i think it was the caucasian equivalent of saying "how ya doin', white trash?" robert's reaction is still burned in my memory. he looked as if i had cold-cocked him in the stomach. my social skills were in need of some serious overhauling.

by this age, i had my crushes down to a science. one day i knew i would be the perfect girlfriend. four years of college delivered three dates. when two of the boys called back, i made up some vague excuse of why i couldn't go out again. "i'm scared shitless" was not one of the reasons i recall giving.

i would joke with my more advanced dormmates about longing for a "hot beef injection." said shot of manhood was never to appear within my hallowed halls while i was within the hallowed halls of undergraduate academia.

i hit 25 with the fear of being the oldest living virgin.

i had a real job and a little studio apartment of my very own. but no man action. no hot beef injection on my radar. after a fun night out with a group of friends, a red-headed bloke who i had chatted with briefly expressed an interest in little 'ole me.

my friend k-girl called me with the news. "are you sitting down? k-boy wants to ask you out!"

i remember barely being able to eat during our dinner date. nerves to the curb. i think i took two bites of toast. me freak!

so k-boy dropped me home. i was a ball of anxiety. he kissed me goodnight. a lifeless pressing that lasted but a moment. then he was gone. of course, i can't blame it all on his lack of prowess. or on my lack of attraction for average joe him. he was kissing more than just a girl. he was kissing a baggage compartment the likes of which la guardia has never seen.

i remember sitting on the floor in front of the tv news after he left, thinking, "is that all there is? is that what i waited this whole quarter of a century for?"

something was wrong, it seemed. let me tell you more about k-boy next time.

until then, feel free to feel better about your dating life as you compare and contrast it to my own. see, don't suck so bad after all, aye?

glad to be of service!

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