Hickey: The Ghost of Kisses Past

This week at work, I was having trouble with a certain file, so I tried to google "how to convert..." for help. My finger slipped and I typed "how to cov..." At that point, the google search predictor thingy took over and the #1 suggestion was "how to cover up a hickey." Hmm, I thought. That's odd. Are hickeys really that prevalent? Are tweens taking over cyberspace? (Toothpaste is a popular suggestion. File that away for future reference.)

When I was a little girl, I watched a lot of TV that was probably inappropriate for a little girl... high school dramas and the like. I couldn't wait for the fabulous teenage years ahead of me. I also blame Molly Ringwald for these high expectations. Bras, make-up, purses, joy rides, make-out parties... it was going to be totally awesome! I envisioned wild scenarios in which my mom would block the doorway and fold down my turtleneck to reveal a hickey. "Just where do you think you're going, young lady!" I'd storm out of the house,  jump into my boyfriend's car, and break curfew. Oh, the angst.

That never happened. The reasons are twofold:

1. Curfew? Ha. In hindsight, I realize I could have run a brothel out of my bedroom and my parents wouldn't have blinked an eye.
2. Turns out that hickeys aren't all that easy to come by. They require a Hoover-like suction, which is strangely not so pleasurable.

At least that's what Marilyn told me. I certainly don't know anything about pre-marital kissing, but that Marilyn lady has had 2 unfortunate run-ins with The Ghost of Kisses Past.

Run-in #1 occurred in high school when a boy came at me with an overabundance of gusto. This was more of a "joke" kiss (aren't they all?) than a romantic kiss. Think about an Italian grandma planting a big wet one on ya. He held the smooch too long, and I was left with a big hickey. SMACK DAB IN THE MIDDLE OF MY FOREHEAD.

Run-in #2 occurred when I was a young college co-ed. Spring break in a foreign country... some things in life are inevitable. At least I finally got to use that turtleneck trick I had been dreaming of since childhood. It worked fairly well until I had to slip into my clubbing clothes. (One's chances of acquiring a second hickey decrease significantly if she wears a turtleneck to the bar. My momma didn't raise no fool!) I thought I had done a decent job with the concealer, but then a cute bartender who had been chatting me up asked if I was from Transylvania. I panicked. "Oh my god... Transylvania... vampires... biting necks... sucking blood... I can't believe this guy is calling me out..." My face turned red enough to blend in with the hickey. I froze. The bartender pointed to the Pennsylvania ID I had given him, and repeated: "You're from Transylvania?" Then it hit me... He wasn't referring to the hickey. He was attempting a geographical joke. Lame. And, thus, Marilyn quickly ruled him out as a contender for run-in #3.

 Yes, London is the tropical spring break destination to which I refer. It would be weird to wear a turtleneck in Cancun.

Curious Sidebar: The 3rd google search suggestion for "how to cov..." is "how to cover a book with a paper bag."