Back in time: My first french kiss

Let us go back to simpler times..the summer of 1978 when I first was introduced to the french kiss. Doing the math I was 13 at the time.....late even by the standards back then...now there are fathers who are that old. Anyway, as Jimmy Carter was president and the Yankees were heading toward another World Series, I was preparing for the best week of my then life......a week without parental control in Charleston, Illinois at the Eastern Illinois University jazz band camp. Yep, I was so excited. This was to be my 4th year in a row there and that gives one a bit of status at a geeky band camp. My mom and grandmother dropped me off after meeting my roommate and getting settled in. I was an above average trumpet player and was looking to be the lead trumpet of at least the 2nd band, if not the 1st band. There was an older trumpet player from Taylorville, Il there who was tall, had groovy long hair and immediately became my "running" pal. We chatted up girls and I used his smoothness with the ladies to hide my complete lack of maturity in that area. Mark made lead trumpet in the 1st jazz band and I made 2nd chair, also known as the solo chair. I was happy and immediately noticed a pretty girl playing 4th chair trombone in my band. She was gorgeous and thin and wore her Sergio Valenti jeans just right. Mark soon hooked up with the hottest chick at camp who was friends with the trombone player. One thing lead to another and we started hanging out, holding hands and spending all out time together. On the 3rd night there, we got dressed up in suits and escorted our dates to see EIU's theater team perform, "You're a Good Man Charlie Brown". I was in my blue three piece suit, tie and for some insane reason was wearing my orange Alice Chalmers farm baseball hat.....(all the guys wore them, all the time back then in the "country"). My date looked so hot in her dress and we held hands like pros during the 1st act. As the lights went to black after the act, she suddenly leaned in, grabbed my jaw and kissed my whole on the mouth and inserted her beautiful 13 year old tongue into mine! The feeling was 100% better than Coke or any other drug I have had the pleasure to have known. Never again would I experience such primal excitement and wonder lust. I had done it!, my internal thoughts screamed. Then the fear of what to do next came! How could I pull off the "lean in"? It was not a practiced move. I was in uncharted territory. Whilst walking back to the dorms after the play with her sweet taste still swirling in my mouth...Mark suggested we go back to the "TV ROOM". Now the TV room was in the basement of the dorm we stayed in was called the TV room only because there was a tv and it was on. But in reality, that was 1978 codewords for MAKE OUT ROOM. Now I just got my first french kiss and here I was going to make out room. It was like catching a practice pass at the school yard and then heading into the Superbowl! I was terrified! What was I supposed to do? Well I knew kinda what to do but I was afraid of failure. As soon as we got there, there were couples everywhere making out as some idiotic late show was on the tele. Mark and his date settled in and began smooching. My girl looked at me and........and........and......then I.....I.........I excused myself to go the bathroom. I had freaked out. LOSER my right brain sceamed! I went to my room in shame and went to bed leaving some pretty trombone player wondering what happened to me. The next day I lied and said I had an upset stomach.....within 24 hours she had moved on to a sax player with much more experience in the kissing game and I was out in the cold. Embarrassed, I shock it off and nailed the solos and trumpet parts that summer but never forgot that kind, pretty girl who introduced me to the art of the kiss. Thanks to whoever you were.....it was me, not you. Hopefully you tell the story too and hopefully I don't come out as some nerdy trumpet player with irritable bowl syndrome.