There are two possible answers to the WHY DIDN’T HE KISS ME? question:

It could be me.

He could be dumb.

After a quick survey of the P&P crew, we think the answer is pretty universal and definitely obvious.

In Which Polly was Not Meg Ryan and Blonde Beau was Not Tom Hanks

My first kiss was perfect. I was in Disney World for a high school marching band trip (cool kid right here) and a slightly older, british, tenor sax-playing, tennis god (with terrible acne but let’s focus on the positives) seized exactly the right moment and smooched me under the fireworks in EPCOT. It was better than a Mary-Kate and Ashley tween movie.

Well it had to go downhill from there, right?

A year later I was a senior and courting a very blonde fellow from the nearby all-boys private school. We made adorable plans to skip half a day of school and take a train into the city. Our time was spent exploring an art museum, enjoying a park picnic, feeding the ducks, attending a musical, and eventually finding ourselves at the top of the city’s tallest building looking out at the sparkling lights during the observation deck’s closing hour. There was oodles of hand holding and longing stares and hinting words but not. a. peck.

Of course longing stares take time and we missed all the trains back home. Blonde Beau’s dad had to pick us up from a seedier part of town. So instead of the observation deck (OR the museum, OR the park, OR the theater) he kissed me in the school parking lot where his dad had to drop me off at my car. Slick.

Circe’s Country Song Gone Wrong

This kiss wasn’t missed in the end, but it probably should have been.

So it wasn’t exactly our first kiss…just the first one we both fully remembered (flashback to 3 days earlier, drunkenly making out at a bar). It was a warm spring evening and we had gone to dinner at one of my favorite restaurants in Aeaea. Croquet Playing Hipster paid: +5 points. Then he suggested taking a walk around the harbor and getting ice cream +100 points (ok, so I really like ice cream…). We walked down by the docks hand in hand for a while, until we decided to sit on a bench overlooking the water. That’s when things started getting awkward.

Conversation became strained as we both tried to determine how close/far we should be sitting from each other, should he put his arm around me, should I lean into him to let him know that would be just fine with me, does my breath smell? (In retrospect, garlic fries may have been a bad first date choice, but if we both ate them, that makes it ok, right?). I felt like I was giving all of the proper signals, and the setting could not have been more perfect.

After sitting there in awkward semi-silence for what felt like an eternity and a half, I couldn’t take it anymore, so I blurted out: “So are you gonna kiss me or what?” Now in my head, this sounded like that cute, playful country song by Thompson Square. In reality, it came off as way too aggressive and accusatory, and I think he was so taken aback/frightened that he finally kissed me so I wouldn’t hurt him.

Penny’s Cuddleless Night

(To be fair: THANK ZEUS NO CUDDLES. I like my space.)

Wayyyy back before MMF and I started actually admitting that we maybe sorta wanted to try seeing each other I accompanied him to a cocktail attire work holiday party and… spent the night.

MMF: Ok, well, here’s the bed and the bathroom is there; I’ll take the couch, obviously.

Penny: You do not have to sleep on the couch.

This was apparently not the blatant invitation I intended it to be because it took him another two months to kiss me and our first night together was spent facing opposite walls and painstakingly avoiding physical contact. The next morning, however, almost made up for the awkwardness of the preceding evening when I discovered that he makes a banging bowl of oatmeal.

For the next month, I went around asking all of my girlfriends (and some of his manfriends) what was wrong with me that I spent the night in a straight guy’s bed and he didn’t so much as cop a feel in his “sleep”. Sigh.

Why the Brooding Artist Type never kissed Molly

For a while, crushing on skinny artsy types was my thing (I say that like it’s not anymore). I was bubbly enough in high school that I could usually draw these skinny artsy types out of their shell. Throw on some charm and sometimes they’d even crush back! It was a gift I had back then. This one particular specimen was a long time in the making. Let’s call him BAT. He played guitar and euphonium, he listened to 70s rock, he had a smile that said “I know something you don’t know,” which is essentially Molly Kryptonite. I am mush at the hands of that smile. I digress…

BAT and I had lunch a few times in the hallways of our high school. We’d hang out after school in the music wing (where all the cool kids hung, of course). We’d talk on AIM (who remembers that early 2000s feeling of logging on AIM and seeing your crush online?). We did a lot of all those things over the course of what felt like the whole year but was probably just a few weeks. At the end of each year our high school would do a big charity event and have the football field open all night with music, food, etc. I distinctly remember sitting on a concrete step near the football field facing each other talking about Led Zeppelin albums. I thought I kept leaning in… I thought I was giving signals… Missed Kiss #1.

Flash forward to a few months in the middle of the summer when I walk into the changing room from a dance rehearsal to see a text from BAT. After no contact since that fateful Missed Kiss Night, it reads, “Hey, just thought of you and wondered if you wanted to do something sometime soon.” (Oh, high school boys and their non-specific agendas). Naturally, I don’t respond to this text but first text “OMG OMG OMG I THINK BAT JUST ASKED ME OUT!” to my BFF Polly. Except I don’t send it to Polly. I send it to BAT.

And they did not live happily ever after.

OK, to be fair, I still hung out with BAT sometimes and he did ask me to Homecoming but the Texting Mistake was never mentioned and clearly threw off whatever mojo this shy little boy was working with. Lesson learned – this was going on 7 years ago and I HAVE NEVER made and WILL NEVER make that mistake again. JUST SAY NO to accidentally texting the person you’re talking about, guys. Just say no.

Molly hangs head in shame.

Effie’s Too-Gentlemanly Gentleman Caller

Me and my too-gentlemanly gentleman caller (TGGC) already had our first kiss. In fact, we had our first kiss many years ago, sitting in the high school cafeteria, if I do recall correctly. Our obnoxiously PDA days at lunch (sorry, Pol) were followed by an entire prom night obnoxiously making out on the dance floor (again- sorry, Pol!) ((Ed. Note- Oh my gods you were disgusting. But I think you were the only two at prom not crying so good for you! -Polly)). Within a week of prom we drifted apart, went our separate ways, and more or less forgot about each other.

Fast forward to a week ago and the rekindling of a romance 8 years in the making. We start off easy- meet for a few drinks, talk for hours, make googly eyes at each other. The norm. He walks me to my subway stop, we hug, express our joy at reconnecting, no kiss. Ok, ok, we’re just not sure what this is yet and he’s respecting my boundaries like a gentleman. No problemo.

Three days pass (had to avoid Eros’s day!) and he finally asks if I want to “get together” again. This time a full dinner, he pays (but like any good Amazonian woman, I offer!). After a few hours he again walks me to the subway, we make plans for the next day, we hug, NO. KISS. Now, i’m pretty sure this isn’t just your run-of-the-mill re-connecting with an old friend deal any more, and a slightly-more-than-friendly kiss would be ok so, alright, lesson learned- Effie needs to be more obvious so he can stop acting the gentleman.

Third date we decide to just go for a walk and see where life takes us. We start by hitting up the giant candy bar and getting provisions for our walk. Fully stocked, and feeling totally adorbs, it’s into the park we go. Now, it’s not a warm day out. In fact, it’s downright freezing. Like, at least drape an arm around your shoulder kind of freezing and get close and warm. Nada. We find ourselves at a big pond, in front of the beautiful boat house, on a gorgeously carved bridge over the water. Lights twinkling in the trees like in a movie. Still nothing. We come up upon the random castle in the middle of the park, surrounded by another pond and the glimmer of twilight descending upon us. STILL. NO. KISS.

I could go on and on and on, but do I really need to?

Moral of the story: Effie needs to slap TGGC in the face with her affections if this is going to go anywhere…

To be continued!