Essays, Interviews, Observations, Pop Culture, Stories, and other Dodginess

The Kissing Booth

Posted on February 10, 2012

Once I attended a fundraiser for a theater on Chicago’s north side. I knew some of the actors through a mutual friend and decided to help out a good cause and I knew a keg would be there. And theater girls. You can’t be shy around these creatures, they’ll blow you out of the water. They have a lot more “ya-ha” moments than your typical cheerleader types.  I discovered that in high school.

There was a carnival theme to the fundraiser. You buy your tickets and use them at various “attractions” like food, games and whatever the hell else they had in there. The only things I was attracted to were the keg and…the kissing booth.

I thought these things didn’t exist. But here it was. An actual live and comely gal waiting to trade a few smooches in order to keep her theater from going dark. She had perfectly curled, caramel hair and big brown eyes. And since this was around Christmas, she was dressed as Santa’s sexy helper.

I cut a well-worn path between her booth and the keg that night. I know I visited her at least three times, and the keg in between each.

My first time at the booth resulted in a simple, yet intimate closed mouth kiss on the lips. The second time I tried to express my intimacy a little more and went (gently) for a more open-mouth style. She politely said, with a smile, that it wasn’t allowed. However, by the third for fourth time, that little rule went out the booth because we locked it up like a scene from “The Notebook.” (Come to think about it she did a resemble Rachel McAdams).

Not long after she closed down the booth (I never really noticed how she worked it with other guys. I know a friend of mine who was there said he wasn’t as fortunate as me)  I thought she was gone for the night but spotted her alone at the keg on one of my many trips there. I dug in my pocket as I walked up and pulled it out.

“I have one more ticket.”

With that she put her cup down, pulled me over, and went above and beyond her duties at the kissing booth.

I haven’t seen a kissing booth since. But I try to attend theater fundraisers…just in case.

 

Not so different from this…

The Invitation

Posted on February 6, 2012

I threw a party at my Chicago apartment once. It was sorta a going away bash, before shit hit the fan and I lost the girl, job and apartment. I made an invitation for the party and I was drunk when I wrote it. It turned out it was kind of a hit with some of the guests. Two gals said the posted it on their refrigerator. I’ll explain the title at the end.

VCN RASTA PARTY

SHIT HAPPENS this Saturday. On this date you will come to this address: 0000 W. Medill Apt. B, as in the garden apt. for you fuckers who may not know. Bring whatever the #!!#$@!! you want, just as long as it’s not one of those asshole kids. The phone no. is 555-5555 in case your ass gets lost or something. Bring your goddam weird attitude or whatever it is that makes you famous, I don’t give an F. I’m just looking for a good time. This address is by Damen and Fullerton and Western, so your ass shouldn’t get lost. This is the Bucktown area, and it’s the door on the left side of the porch. Don’t go up the fuckin’ stairs or you went too far. The time will be most likely around 9 p.m., but don’t hold that against me, ‘cause I’ll be wasted by then anyhow. It may not be the biggest place, but it’s the weirdest, and as my last girlfriend once said, “Liffey, you’re a freak.” Screw her. I’ll see you here. And keep work talk to a minimum or I’ll fuckin’ throw batteries at your head.

The school I worked at had the initials VCN. Everything else – like I said, I was wasted. I think it’s funny how I used symbols to cover a naughty word yet used plenty of those same words in the text. I disguised the address and phone, as if it mattered.  Anyway, I found this recently (I may scan/photocopy it directly to a post) and….it actually might turn up in some form as a small excerpt from the book I’m working on.

Cheers.

The Touch

Posted on February 4, 2012

Like I promised…inspired by Anna Kendrick’s “touch” scenes from 50/50.

Anna Kendrick and her magic touch…

Those little scenes resonated with me…I’m posting a few personal experiences of “the touch.” It’s a rare time you’ll see something semi-sweet here.

Angela’s her name – I’ve mentioned her before. We dated briefly but mostly she was the “I’ll always be your friend” type. Once we were going on break together and I was complaining of a cold or something, or having a sickness and swollen glands. Angela started touching around my neck to see. I quite enjoyed it so like the Indiana Jones/Marian boat scene in “Raiders” I told her to check “here, or there…maybe here” on my neck. It made me feel better.

Another Angela highlight: in the back office, when she rolled up her pants and allowed me to massage her bare, skinny calves.

Most of these are of the “unrequited” variety – maybe that’s why they’re memorable. It never went any further.

Another time was someone I also had strong feelings for. She stopped midway during a conversation we were having to wipe something away from my eyelashes. “That’s what friends do,” she said. There were also a few nice cuddling moments on the couch while watching movies.

I remember it like it just happened. She would never in a million years recall that, I guarantee you.

I was working on a project with a group. I was sitting down when a gal I had an absolute mad crush on came up behind me and gave me a strong hug “hello” from behind. It involved her head on my shoulder while her face pressed against mine. That was amazing. Sounds crazy but I never forgot it. There was just something about it.

I even have a celebrity example. Once I met Milla Jovovich and having her arm around me during a photo opp. is something I won’t forget. Her skinny hipbone was magical in my grasp.

Milla gives good embrace

When it’s someone you’re attracted to, whether it’s someone you’ve known for awhile or whom you just met (50/50) a “touch” can be something special.

That’s it for now. Time to go back to thoughts on unbridled drunken kisses and awkward but passionate sex.