Chocolate Milk

Being ninety-nine percent asexual, playing the classic adult game “Never Have I Ever” always comes as a huge surprise to my friends in college. I guess they would like to believe while they were out getting a sore from every boar (or should I say exes?) I used to date myself. From middle school to my sophomore year of high school my number of exes may have reached lottery number digits. But don’t get the wrong impression. I’m about of a ladies man as a guy with a pocket protector and a physique similar to the average bendy straw you can receive from a fast food chain. My issue lied in the fact that I needed to ensure that my brain and genitalia had no interest but more importantly if someone wants to take me out to dinner I’m not saying no to a free meal.

My first kiss was something so awkward, a teenage film wouldn't even air it. It occurred in second grade with a girl who, to this day, I keep forgetting her name. The setting was the hallway leading from the cafeteria to the classroom where I was given the grand responsibility of carrying her chocolate milk back to her desk, which was no laughing matter. I’m not sure if you believe in any religious figure or a higher power that happens to control the universe but he decided this was the moment he needed some comedy. Since my elementary school was brand new there was never a surprise if they cleaned to show off its content but since there weren't any parents nearby…who needs to label a freshly waxed floor? While in midair I just remembered thinking about why all of my other classmates took another route and then my spine collided with the floor. There was a Mediterranean chocolate sea floating down the hall and its owner running towards me. When I got up, I braced myself, expecting a smack while she flailed her arms yelling but instead her moist chocolate milk stained lips collided with mine. Her kiss felt exactly like the exact moment cheese curdles and brews to separate into whey. Pure disgust was my only emotion, pure disgust.


Just like Garfield, Karl hates Mondays and the mornings.