I learned this lesson the hard way.
My date and I had spent the evening at a minor league baseball game. It was the third time we had gone out and I was walking her to her car. I was confident that it was time to kiss her, and made my move only to realize I had made a terrible, terrible mistake.
She latched onto my mouth and began to maul my face. Her tongue flailed about like a coin-operated mechanical bull. I attempted to guide the kiss back into neutral territory but my efforts were for naught as she latched onto my lower lip with leech-like suction. It was jerky, frantic, and forceful: no words that should ever be used describe a kiss. There was a lot of oral gesticulating going on. Her tongue was like a panicked octopus playing Pictionary trying to act out the words to Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon with 15 seconds left on the clock.
It was not hot.
|It was a wipeout|
I received a text from her later in the evening. “Sorry for eating your face.” I assured her it was okay, despite knowing full well that the damage had been done. Needless to say, she and I are no longer together. I cringe to think that another man out there may be experiencing what I did. I can only hope that my story will help raise awareness of a clear and present danger in the dating world: beware the violent kisser.