Sleepwalk With Me_ And Other Painfully True Stories - Mike Birbiglia [15]
And slow dancing isn’t all that challenging. It’s just like hugging someone in slow motion. And all I’m trying to do is just not fidget, because then it might seem like I’m trying to start the making out before the making out starts. Because all it takes is the slightest tilt of the head. Just the subtlest tweak of the neck and it is on. I think that’s one of the things that scared me so much about the making-out concept. I had kissed relatives on the mouth but never with tongue or the tilt.
And the combination of the tilt and the space in between the two mouths is what scared me. No one has video footage of what happens in the middle of those two mouths. It is uncharted territory. It’s the giant squid of making out. There’s no way to learn how to kiss. There’s no kissing camp. There’s just camp.
It was that unknown that terrified me. Literally terrified me. What if there was some secret move that no one was telling me about that happens in there, like you swap tongues for like one second or your tongue presses a secret button on the other person’s tongue? And then afterward someone is like, “Did you press the button?” And I’m like, “No! There’s a button? I really botched this one. I didn’t press the button.”
So I think, I have to do this, so I initiate the tilt and then she comes in strong. It was really like an all-out mouth war. And Sondra had artillery. She had braces. It was like a dog eating spaghetti and the fork, because of the braces.
And as this oral atrocity is taking place, all I could think was, I’m not alone! I’m not one of those freaks who hasn’t had his first kiss. When I finish up here I can make fun of those losers!
And then afterward, Sam asks me, “How’d it go?” and I say, “It went pretty well, actually.” And then as days went on I started thinking it went much better than it had. Like, That was great! I’m great at this! This could work! So I called Sondra.
But we had nothing to talk about because we didn’t know each other, like “Remember when we made out? That was cool, right? Hey—is there a button? Nevermind. I love the show Full House. You like that show? Yeah. I hate it too.” And a few days later she stopped calling me back. And I was like, What is up? First I rock her world and now this? I took her for a ride on the Mike Birbiglia mouth machine and now she’s not calling me?
So I say to Tom, the guy at school who set us up, I’m like, “What’s up with Sondra?” And he has this shit-eating grin.
And I’m like, “What?” And he’s like, “Sondra said you’re the worst kisser she’s ever kissed.”
And I was crushed. The worst part was that I couldn’t explain that it was my first kiss because I already lied about it not being my first kiss.
So I had to play it off like it was my style. I said, “Yeah, that sounds about right. I’m a terrible kisser.”
Fortunately Sam was right there with me. He smiled and nodded, saying, “Me too, dude. Me too.”
Growing up, I was a big fan of the Indiana Jones movies. I watched them again recently and found them to be misleading. Aspiring archeologists across the world probably show up to their first day of work with their weather-worn fedoras and their whips and they’re like, “Where’s the cavern of jewels?” And their boss is like, “Actually, today we’re gonna start off by dusting thousands of miles of nothing.” The thing I admire most about these movies is the conviction and sense of self that Indy has. He’s an archeologist and an overly trusting action hero and he’s okay with that. Indy’s always like, “My long-lost friend with a glass eye and a black suit needs a hand locating a crystal scepter that turns people into sand? Sure, I’ll help. That sounds totally on the level.” The other notable thing about Indy