My First Kiss


I used to live in a 6-floor apartment building in New York City.  I was about 11 or 12 years old and had never been kissed.  Actually, it hadn’t really  occurred to me that this was something I was supposed to look forward to.

I spent most of my days then going to school, coming home, going out to play with  my friends, and then coming in to eat dinner and do my homework.

Kiss?  It never crossed my mind.  Now, back in those days, apartment buildings had two different wings.  I lived in one side and this boy I knew, Clark lived in the other side.  We were really good friends and as friends do, we liked to talk to each other once we were home.

But telephone calls were expensive back then and I certainly wouldn’t dream of my mother catching me on the phone, in general…

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