Betsy Rooney

 
  City of Birth:
Fort Hood, TX
 
 

Betsy's Story

  CHAPTERS
My Entire Life
   
  CATEGORIES
Categories not defined yet
   
 

Featured Story

It Has Been A Rough Year

I am adding this additional chapter to my introduction, because after I initially wrote the introduction, it was very difficult to come back to it and try to make sense of all that I have experienced through the various stages of my life and the trials that I have endured or overcome.  I wish ...


[more]



The Birth of Charles Leonard Wiggins

The story has already been written for awhile on my blog "From the heart of Praise, Prayer and Perseverance. 0; Here is a link to that posting, Below are the pictures of the blessed event.   http://fromthehea rt-dotwigg.blogsp ot.com/2008/03/an other-2-prayer-re quest-answered.ht ml


[more]

Browse for more stories

Betsy's Story > Chapters > My Entire Life

"Real vs. Fake First Kisses" 

 

Date Range: 1982 To 1983   Comments: 6   Views: 21,007
Attachments: No
 

Technically my first kiss came from Scott Sullenger when I was 14.  I was a 9th grade D-lister and he was a pudgy 10th grade band geek who wore striped polo shirts buttoned to the neck and black freak boots.

 

When he asked me out, there in front of the band hall between first and second periods, I stood there like a drooling idiot, imperceptibly nodding for no less than 30 seconds.  I remember that moment pretty clearly.  I was a young doe caught in the glare of my very first “Will you go out with me?”  Poor Scott.  He stood there with his eyebrows raised and his chin tucked, I’m sure taking my silence as a hesitation or possible rejection.  Finally I got my head bobbing enough that he could read my nod and we became a couple.

 

The first time we kissed, it was on the front sidewalk at my house and he timed it with his big black plastic calculator watch.  I don’t remember what the parameters of the kiss were supposed to be, but I do remember thinking, “This is stoopid.”  He was no Casanova, that’s fer sure.

 

Sometime in the next few months, I went to visit my dad in Killeen.  Across the street from his house lived a redheaded Opie Taylor look-alike named Eddie.  I had met Eddie on previous visits and he had treated me like a pariah because I was a GURL.  But now we were 14, he was a cute football player in a net jersey, I was a girl in need of some interesting stuff to put in my diary, and hormones were running the show.  Things were different. 

 

One night Eddie’s parents invited all of us over for dinner.  I remember that we had Yaki Mandu and it was to die for.  After dinner, the adults pulled out the dominoes and, in a haze of cigarette smoke and raucous adult laughter, shooed us kids outside.  Eddie had a fort in his backyard that all the little kids loved.  It was a shallow hole dug out of the dirt, much like a WWI trench, and it was covered with a big piece of corrugated tin.  We hung out in there for a bit, with our necks bent and our legs cramped, arguing about what we should DO.  Finally, someone suggested hide and seek.  Eddie volunteered us two big kids to be It for the first round.

 

Base was Eddie’s garage.  He led the way inside, hollering “1!  2!  3!...” while the little kids scrambled for the best hiding spots.  It was dark and I was tingling with anticipation of what might happen, and fearing a big let down.  I leaned my back up against the wall while he was hollering at the little kids and tried to look alluring, yet aloof.  He wasn’t fooled.  He put his palms flat on the wall above my shoulders, leaned in so close that our bellies were touching, and kissed me like he knew what he was doing.  I had never, ever been that close to a boy before and I thought I would MELT. 

 

We spent the rest of the night in his garage making out and hollering “Ready or not, here we come!” every so often to keep the little kids at bay.  I don’t recall if we ever really looked for any of them or not!

 

I stayed at Dad’s a few more days, but Eddie had to go to San Antonio the next day to visit family.  While in San Antonio, he sent five or six letters to my house in Dallas full of gushy “I love yous” and “I miss yous” and even threw in a proposal or two.  They beat me home and my mother, seeing the hearts around my name on the envelopes, was alarmed and opened the letters.   then proceeded to flip right the heck OUT.  It was ugly.   She called Dad and made a big scene.  In one of those letters Eddie included a $2 bill adorned with “Eddie + Betsy = Love 4ever.”  I still have it somewhere. 

 

I guess I was still dating Scott, because when I got home, I tried to kiss him like Eddie had kissed me, but it just did not work.  He was too rigid.  We broke up soon afterwards.

 

I know that Scott was technically my first kiss, but Eddie was my first REAL kiss and he’s the one I think of when the topic comes up. 

 

I never saw Eddie again.  We wrote back and forth for a couple of weeks, and that was it.   Last I heard he was married with a couple of kids, selling cars or something equally as exciting.

 

I just printed out the recipe for Yaki Mandu and I think I’ll damn the diet and whip some up this weekend in honor of my impending 40th birthday, and think about that night in Eddie’s garage.



Email this Story

Read more of Betsy's Stories   |   Read other great Stories

Share/Save/Bookmark

Related Files

No files attached to this story.


Comments

Help

You must be registered to leave comments. Register here! It's free!

Already a member? Login here



Member Since
Aug 2007
Antje Wilsch said:
posted on Feb 21, 2008
oh love it

to have that feeling again... where does it all go so wrong? lol


Member Since
Aug 2007
Brian Childers said:
posted on Feb 25, 2008
awesome

that poor chubster boy is probably still carrying a torch for you ;)


Member Since
Aug 2007
Brian Childers said:
posted on Feb 25, 2008
oh

and Happy 40th Burfday!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!1


Member Since
Apr 2008
Argento Saliente said:
posted on Apr 07, 2008
TOO funny

this one had me rolling, you are a TERRIFIC writer!!!


Member Since
Aug 2007
Brian Childers said:
posted on May 15, 2008
man i luv yr writing

i read your stories multiple times & still like them


Member Since
Mar 2008
emily sanchez said:
posted on May 15, 2008
Only count the first good one as the first

Great story, and so like so many I think. My first French kiss was by a much older boy (maybe 3 grades ahead) and it was AWE-FUL. He had a mooshy tongue and just shoved it right in with no warning at all. I thought I was going to vomit!! I remember the first GOOD French kiss with much more fondness. I just try to think of THAT one as the first... LOL.