It wasn’t just the flubbed kiss with Peach; I had a miserable record with girls throughout my teenage years. I actually ran away from a girl at a high school dance, fearing mockery and embarrassment. A year later, I did manage to dance with a girl from Branksome School but flubbed the phone call afterwards with talk of love.
That was my thing, to harp on about love and existence and hope they might think of me as poetic. It didn’t work on anyone – not Lori McClennan, Karen Spafford nor Tanis Gravenor – because I was sophomoric and stupid.
I did finally make out with a girl, Liz Howes, in Third Year at college. She was beautiful but had an awful voice; I might have mentioned that to her. She dumped me after a week. But she did give me a kitten that I named Popo and ended up having for 15 years. This remains my longest relationship to date.