Before I divulge any love interests or tales of swapping spit, I'll just say that those who know me know that I've never been the romantic type. Honestly, I've never thought that women would be interested in someone with the unusual interests or sense of humor that I have, nor would they be drawn to someone whose looks were "eh." In my opinion, anyway. Thus, I don't have a string of women left behind. That said, while I'm no Don Juan by any means, I'm not exactly comatose, either. Yes, I've actually been interested in girls, and on a few occasions, some lip locking did occur. Let's get to it...
The first girl I remember liking was a nice, pretty girl by the name of Shirley in second grade at Oxnard St. School. (Her last name escapes me.) Many of the other boys in Mrs. Bernardo's class liked her as well. Whenever our class had been outside for recess or lunch, we had to line up before going back inside the classroom—boys on one side, girls on the other. The two lines faced each other, so when we finally went back into the classroom, we "partnered" with the girl facing us. We didn't hold hands or anything, but we got to walk up the steps with our partner all the way into the classroom. Because there was no order to how we lined up, who became our partner was an act of pure randomness. I always secretly hoped that Shirley would be my partner. One time, she was, and that made my day—and possibly my entire year. When we were in elementary school, most of the kids in our classes went on to the next grade in the same class, so you could meet someone in kindergarten and be in all of their classes through sixth grade. I came to Oxnard St. School halfway through second grade due to our family's move from the house I wandered away from (see Day 2's entry) to where my mom still lives today. Shirley was in my class for the second half of second grade, but I don't think she was in my third grade class—at least I don't remember her being in that class. I had a crush or two on a few others over the years. But we'll save that for another day.
Traditionally, boys are the instigators of physical romance. They're brave and always ready to "go for it." Believe it or don't, there are guys who are just as paranoid about getting a kiss from a pretty young thing as the girls are. Not only do I fall into that category, but I break things on my way down. Like many young people do (or did), we rascals got into games of Spin the Bottle™, but I don't count any kissing done there for the sake of this writing because I know that wasn't what they wanted us to write about. I suspect that you who are still reading aren't interested in that, either.
While most of the guys my age were sowing their wild oats and doing all kinds of unmentionable things with the women in their lives, I was quite laid back and perfectly happy to let the world turn and watch life go by. At some point, however, we all get sucked into the physical part of a relationship with someone we like even a little. Sometime in the early '70s—I'd say 1973 or so—I met a nice young lady named "L." (This is her real initial.) A few might know who I'm talking about. She was a friend of one of the kids in our church youth group. L and her mom lived next door to the old, late '40s-era apartment complex where those youth group friends lived, which we affectionately named "The Whitsett Weeds." L's complex was newer, kept up better, and they had a swimming pool; The Weeds did not. I don't remember why, but L came over to our house one time, most likely with the kids from the youth group for a youth meeting. (We sometimes rotated among our members' homes.) I don't remember how we managed to get alongside the house, but L and I found ourselves under the kitchen window. We had a nice, long, kiss, though being a first kiss for both of us, we didn't try any of that open mouth, French stuff. (Of course, being so young and inexperienced, we had no clue about how to even do that!) But that would come later with a girl whose name was neither L nor began with that letter.
I think L and I kissed one or two more times before she and her mom moved away. During all of the time I knew L, I believe I saw her mom only once or twice—and briefly at that.
So, now you've visited the ground floor of Eric's Love Life. Not a real exciting place, but at least we take coupons. On the road to love, we all have to start somewhere.
Tomorrow you'll get to learn ten interesting facts about me as the writing challenge continues. I'd better start putting my list together. Stay tuned...
Tomorrow you'll get to learn ten interesting facts about me as the writing challenge continues. I'd better start putting my list together. Stay tuned...
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