This scene takes you to Parkside Manor, where I lived when I moved from LA to Oakland in 1992. I soon met the quintessential boy next door, and he lived next door. What could possibly go wrong?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“How
do you get your dishes so clean? They’re so shiny.” My inquiry followed a tasty
meal of scallops and pasta, garlic bread, and red wine. Noah placed our kitchenware
in the sink, and teased that a dishsoap-plus-water formula helps.
I
stood nearby, gawking. “I mean they’re just so perfectly clean. I can never get
mine to look like that.”
Noah
wiped his hands on a washrag. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Yeah.”
“Are
you seeing anyone?”
“No.”
“Then…can
I kiss you?”
An
excited nervousness pushed a “yes” through my mouth.
Noah walked over to me, tenderly cupped my chin
in his hands, and began dabbing my mouth with his tongue as if attempting to budge
a dead possum. He merged us over to the
futon couch and continued.
“You
don’t have to do anything. Don’t even open your mouth,” Noah instructed.
Keep
my mouth closed and do nothing? Like a corpse?
He
re-dabbed. I gently inched back, wondering about Noah’s leanings towards
necrophilia. Still, we liked each other. He was respectful enough to ask if he
could kiss me, and he made dinner. Best yet, I kept thinking, he lives next
door. Despite the weird tongue interference, I’d transitioned my life into a
romantic tale.
“Sorry,” Noah said. “Are you okay with this?”
“Yeah,
I just need to take it slow that’s all.”
OMG too funny - had to read this one on the basis of the title alone, Robyn xo
ReplyDeleteNot sure about the opossum part... Could be leading toward roadkill.
ReplyDeleteSounds fascinating, but funny and creepy and exciting , all in one!
ReplyDeleteI'll wait! Even if it's 16.5 years (provided I'm not dead of course)
;)
Keep up the great work Robyn!
xo
I don't know. Sounds a bit weird to me. But, some things can be endearing. Just keep your back to the door, so you can turn and exit stage right, if needed.
ReplyDeleteI was about to log off and go to sleep, when your title popped up on my blogroll. Needless to say, I had to come over. Brilliant title and a really fun read. I hope he was able to do more than just "dab" with that tongue.
ReplyDeletePossibly the best blog post title of the decade...
ReplyDeleteFunny stuff and and unnerving at the same time.
Thanks, David. It was fun to write but not endure.
ReplyDeleteAlex, good prediction. Stay tuned. =)
Anthony, yeah, that's a good description. I really liked him too. Oy vey. And I appreciate a man's who's willing to wait. Wink.
DG, it/he WAS weird. Problems with exiting a neighbor's place occur when they remain next door.
Anne, thanks for dropping by. No, unfortunately he wasn't (able to do more than dab, that is).
Pat, thank you. I didn't consider that I might attract a lot of internet creeps with this title. It'll be interesting to see how many hits I get from folks who don't comment.
Thanks, all. I will continue this one.
xoRobyn
What don't we know about this guy.
ReplyDeleteOh my! You poor thing! That's even worse than my "worst kiss ever" experience!
ReplyDeleteNow that's an excerpt that would sell a book! To be fair, I doubt it was necrophilia. Maybe he was just curious about the taste of your lips. Or maybe he wanted to lick your lips for you after supper. That might be a gentlemanly gesture in parts of Mongolia.
ReplyDeleteA dab is better than tons of drool I suppose, great title.
ReplyDeleteVery strange
ReplyDeleteThe dabbing at your range
Muy what dead possums can do
That never knew
Maybe give their/his tale a yank
And they'll no longer kiss like a wooden blank
I've kissed a dead opossum twice. Not that exciting.
ReplyDeleteHe starts posing you in weird positions, run.
ReplyDeleteThat works for sex, too. No, don't move. Just stay completely still. In fact, try not to breathe.
ReplyDeleteI may have a problem.
Interesting!
ReplyDeleteWhat is this guy's deal...
Pearl
Stephen and Pearl, that is the question about every guy in my book. My writing-group keeps asking for explanation. But I just can't explain the men of my past's weirdness.
ReplyDeleteYvonne, do tell. I'd love to know your story! Thanks.
GB, you are forever the diplomat. For that I commend you. But I'll stick with healthy cynicism.
John, that's a good point. I've had the slobber-all-over-you kiss and it's even more disgusting than the dabbing-as-if-to-budge-a-dead-possum kiss.
Pat, that's a hilarious rhyme. Kudos to you. Thanks!
PTM, it didn't get more exciting the second time. Cuz the first time's always awkward.
L.Diane, I'm laughing. Good advice. He really only wanted me to be still, not move, keep my mouth closed, and put up with it.
BnB, nothing personal, but have you considered the possibility that you're challenged by necrophilia? There might be a 12-step group for you.
Cheers, all. Thanks for making me laugh.
xoRobyn
PS, PTM, I meant my first statement to be a question.
ReplyDeletexo
This has really peaked my curiosity now Robyn, really can't wait for this book to come out, as macabre as it sounds like it's about to be.
ReplyDeleteWhen I read the title I was like...no way Robyn is writing about the necro, no way!!
ReplyDeleteThen I laughed all the way through the story...
Kudos to the possum queen!!
The fact that he didn't cast a reflection in the mirror should have been a dead (no pun intended) giveaway.
ReplyDeleteLol! I love your title. He does seem like a fast mover, though. I'm glad you stuck up for yourself and told him you wanted to take it slow.
ReplyDeleteYW, thanks so much. I can always count on you for support.
ReplyDeleteChuck, hahaha, you thought I was pure and innocent? As innocent as a dead possum, I tell ya. Actually, I'm pretty darn innocent and so was he.
Al, I didn't think of that at the time. Where were you when I needed you?
BabySis, he was very methodical. I'll share more snippets, and you'll see that he's not much faster than a dead possum.
Thanks, everyone. Happy Friday and weekend.
xoRobyn
Looking forward to part II. Wait a minute...were you dating Mr. Freeze?
ReplyDeleteRobyn, can you move the publication date up sixteen years? I'm not getting any younger.
Julie
Me neither, Julie. Thanks for the nudge. I'll try to cut a few years off of it this weekend. Thank you. xo
ReplyDelete