Only Men Would Give First Snog the Kiss-Off

Article excerpt

Byline: Shari Low

PREPARED to be shocked and saddened, dear readers. Highbrow, educational research (also known as "another daft survey") has revealed that more Britons can remember their first car than their first kiss.

In the name of slipped tongues, what's going on? It's an astonishing revelation that has me pondering some seriously devastating questions.

Is a bit of metal with four wheels and a beaded seat cover really more important than the interaction between two human beings?

Have the milestones of maturity been completely eroded by our materialistic culture?

And will I get through this whole article without making a single lewd innuendo involving a gear stick?

I hate to resort to trite, general, sexist assumptions (if you're standing next to a bloke who just splurted his coffee out when he read that last bit, that'll be my husband), but I'm guessing that the majority of people surveyed were of the menfolk variety.

I had a quick confab with my chums to check the voracity of my theory and, yes, every one of them can remember every pucker, wink and wandering hand of their first snog.

Their first car? They can just about recall the make and colour.

But then, we're all perpetually knackered, working mothers - remembering where we parked the wheelie bin is a challenge.

The thrilling night of my first smooch was in August 1979, outside the school youth club, between the doors to the toilets and the bins, and the victim was a classmate called Paul.

I can remember what I was wearing (tight jeans, leg warmers, tukka boots, Aran-knit jumper a la Haircut 100, fingerless gloves) and I can remember his beautiful, romantic opening words ("Hurry up and start, it's Baltic out here"). It was a romantic, poignant moment that will stay forever unrivalled in my heart. Actually, that's the Mills & Boon version, the one that topped itself in the face of reality and acute frostbite.

The true story? Ten couples dotted along the wall, in below zero temperatures, puckered up at 7.35pm, came up for air at 9.55pm, spent the rest of the week with lips that looked like sink plungers. …