A woman has just walked into the office and her perfume set up off a Proust-like moment through my hippocampus. It smelt strikingly like the perfume the first girl I snogged was wearing.

And boy, did that kiss take a while to happen.

Notorious procrastinator that I was/am, I’m firmly of the belief why should you do something today when you can put it off a while and then maybe people will forget what it was they wanted during that time.

But time (or girlfriend) wait for no man. Well, at least not for long.

One of my sister’s friends fancied me and Samantha (my sister’s friend) and I would hang out in the youth club after school. This provided opportunities a-plenty for me to slip her the tongue, except one thing got in the way:

I was fuckin’ scared of doing it.

Not having kissed someone (with tongues) before, I was mortified about making a complete arse of myself. Visions of headbutts or enamel chipping came to mind. But not only did I have a girl interested, but I also had a school disco coming up where I knew things would have to happen (it was a Catholic school; these things were mandatory).

One night I had a chance and nearly made it, but didn’t. I ended up being called “a square” by another girl, and even got the accompanying hand gesture of the air square. Not only did it do nothing for my confidence, but it also provoked a wry smile the first time I watched Pulp Fiction.

The thought of the upcoming tonguefest at the disco put me off my schoolwork. I’d be day-dreaming through my classes, looking out the window and seeing other people who I knew had snogged, thinking how much easier their life must be having this skill in their armoury.

Oh the aching inner turmoil of the thirteen-year old TKK!

So the school disco finally arrived, unlike my nerve. Somehow, I managed to get through the entire night without getting round to it, until the fear of a friend trying to horn in on my territory made get the lead out.

We were both sat on top of a gym box and I switched from her left side to her right, which meant I was clearly getting ready to do the deed, as I prefer to kiss from the right. And I did it! There was no headbutts, nor enamel scraping, although I did acquire a life-long conviction that people should close their eyes while kissing.

Of course, thing went downhill from there when I later succumbed to peer pressure and ignored the girl and got off with her friend. But if you can kiss a girl without bruising her forehead or banging her teeth then:

Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And - which is more - you'll be a Man, my son!