I am a 15-year-old girl, and I haven't even been kissed yet! How can I get a guy, and how should I flirt with him?! Help!
You know, I didn't get my first kiss till I hit the ripe old age of 16 myself. It was one not-so-enchanted evening during a party at some rich classmate's house. Tommy Spitswapper* and I were out on the back lawn drinking wine coolers (not to say I condone underage drinking—it is illegal!) and listening to Journey or Styx or some other awful band the other kids (not me!) loved. I believe I probably smoked a couple menthol cigarettes that night for added cool appeal. Tommy had light-brown feathered hair, a tight little teenage boy ass, and a wide, wide mouth that put him right at the top of my personal hottie list. One thing led to another, and before I knew it his Gene Simmons-sized tongue was snaking its way toward my tonsils. I couldn't breathe; his tongue was larger than many penises I've seen since. I started choking and hyperventilating, and he finally stopped seconds before I puked. It was awful, and I was convinced that because I didn't like kissing boys, I was a lesbian.
I relate this exceptionally dull story to let you know that you're hardly the only 15-year-old who has yet to have their first kiss. You might think you are, but you're not—swear to god. By the time I hit 17, I was convinced that I was the world's oldest living virgin. Turns out it only seemed that way because I was hanging out with the slutty girls who skewed the median age (not that there's anything wrong with slutty girls!). I was so sure that nobody would ever love me (Tommy barely spoke to me after that night), I ended up getting involved with an abusive bastard who nearly killed me. He stalked me so persistently when I broke up with him that I had to move to another state. I was only 19!
I realize that this sounds like the kind of cautionary tale your mother might tell you to warn you off boys. That's not my intention. Most boys are lovely creatures who have all manner of nice things to offer a girl (or boy). But if you waste too much time worrying about how to land one, you may neglect important wholesome teenage-girl activities like schoolwork and going to Le Tigre shows. Women too often fall prey to basing their sense of self-worth on what some guy thinks of them. This is terribly misguided, and I sincerely hope you are smarter than I was at your age.
I'm sorry I don't have a magic solution for you, but if you concentrate on things you're interested in, chances are you will meet a like-minded nice young man; I know it sounds stupid as hell, but get involved in some extracurricular activities. I always found the Future Firefighters of America to be a hotbed of future ex-boyfriends.
And as far as flirting goes, people—not just men—like people who like them. Flirting is easy; it's all about making another person feel good about him or herself. Even a simple "hello" can work if you say it with a smile. And sincere compliments do wonders, too—I've yet to meet a man who could resist "nice ass" whispered in his ear. If compliments aren't your style, you could always try flashing the object of your desire. Nothing says "kiss me" like a fleeting glimpse of nipple! (Kidding—no flashing till you're 18.)
*Name changed to protect the overly orally endowed.
A COUPLE WEEKS AGO ["Dim Sum or Dim Bulb?" Dategirl, Jan. 10] a gentleman wrote to me after a date ruined by a wretched dining experience. His date—a recent immigrant—cried because her meal (allegedly her native cuisine) sucked. Their waiter was horribly rude, so the gent wrote asking what the proper response would've been. I said they were a couple of pantywaists not worthy of solid food. Several people chastised me for including her in my vitriol. They pointed out that this woman was probably homesick and lonely, and the bad food being passed off as authentic likely pushed her over the edge. I stand corrected. (Though everyone was in agreement that her date should be ashamed of himself for being such a wuss.)
Kissing queries? Write Dategirl at firstname.lastname@example.org or c/o Seattle Weekly, 1008 Western, Ste. 300, Seattle, WA 98104.