Forehead Kisser

So a while back I went on a date with this guy who is known about town to be a playa. That's right...playa with an "a", not an "er". Granted he's super good looking, has a great job and is loaded. He has dated two or three of my friends, none of whom had stellar commentary about him, so that probably should have been my first sign.

Anyway, we went on said date (which was non-discript and rather vanilla, so I'll spare you the boring details). At the end of the date, he walked me to my car. At the end of a first date I have had men shake my hand, try to high-school make out, Grandma kiss, etc. But this is the first time I had someone kiss my forehead. You got it...my forehead. Which would have been great if he were my dad, or we had been dating for a long time. But it was a first date. Come on now! He was about a foot taller that I am, so I thought maybe it was a logistical issue and he would go in for a second attempt. Nothing.

Since he never called me again, of course I had to start telling people about him. A couple weeks later I was at a private party happy hour deal, holding court, telling my forehead kisser story to about ten people. As I am standing there finishing up my story I say, "...now ladies and gentlemen, please don't all turn around at once, but the Forehead Kisser has entered the building." You heard me...he had come to this happy hour thing with one of my neighbors. Naturally, all ten heads turned around at once and stared at him. He was so uncomfortable he spent the rest of the evening running away from me. So mature.