Firsts

I was ‘tagged’ yesterday in a meme by the one and only Poshbird who writes good stuff in her viewfromtheloungewindow blog, and likes to tweet a lot. She’s taking me back to my teenage years for this one, so I’d better bash a quick one out.

First Boyfriend?

Well it was almost by best mate Mark. We used to get drunk on smuggled bottles of Becks beer and stay over when we were about fourteen / fifteen. We once actually woke up in the same bed with our arms around each other. It was a shock to both of us. Thankfully it was only a brief encounter…… Ok, my first girlfriend then… I actually had a few when I was around primary 7, one called Julie, one called Leeanne and another called Shona.

First person I kissed?

Was definitely one of the aforementioned three. In fact, I kissed all of them but remember full on snogging with Shona after a primary school disco one evening. The sounds of Bucks Fizz, Adam and the Ants and Kim Wilde were still ringing in my ears when she showed me a thing a boy should learn. What a night that was for an 11 year old. Up until that point girls were yeughh, and I would have run a mile just to get away from them playing kiss, cuddle or torture. Now I was the master of French kissing, whether I wanted to or not. Having someone ram their tongue in your mouth soon helps you learn. On the job experience is infinitely better than reading about it or watching others do it.

First job

Was for the local council Roads Dept. A trainee civil engineering technician at the ripe old age of 17. I was supposed to go to Uni, but failed two of my Highers after being in love for a year with my first real, proper girlfriend. I didn’t do any revision and spent the whole year having the best horny intimacy a 16 year old could wish for. If anyone ever does invent a time machine, take me back to 1986 please. I’m not interested in saving the world or re-writing history but I’d settle for the John and Yoko style love-ins we used to have, sustained only by chicken and mushroom pot noodles and cherry coke.

I started sixth form with the intention of re-sitting the exams, but within a few week realised I was past school. I was going out drinking on Sunday’s and not making it to school on Monday mornings, it was time to grow up and find my way in the real world.

First pay Packet – What did you buy?

I can’t recall my exact wage slip but I know I started on £3700 per year so it must have been about £300/month back in 1987. I also have no idea what I bought with it, other than loads of alcohol in the pub and probably a jumper from Next, cause that’s what everyone wore back then.

First CD I remember buying

I stuck with vinyl for many years before succumbing to CD’s – then went and bought a top of the range surround sound, five speaker beast of a thing to scare the neighbours with. I think my first actual CD purchase was therefore technically The Verve – Northern Soul or Oasis Definitely Maybe.  As far as the first black shiny vinyl disc goes it was actually AC/DC - If You Want Blood You’ve Got It. I was a little head banger when I was ten, but soon grew out of it and moved on to much cooler stuff. Ironically, how cool have AC/DC become in that retro way recently with Iron Man sound track etc.

First holiday abroad

Anyone following my blog may have read my recent musings about Majorca. My first holiday abroad was to Palma Nova in the early eighties, which set the trend for many visits and experiences there as I grew from boy to adolescent to man. I loved the pool, the beach, the ice creams, and the boat trip where Dolphins actually swam along with the boat and then silly daft adults got drunk and dived off the boat to chase bottles of cheap fizz thrown into the sea.

What age when moved out of parent house?

I was “asked to leave” at the age of 17, following a stupid drunken argument with my stepdad. It all got way out of hand, and with my mind full of drink and bravado, I over stepped the mark big style. I stayed at my Gran's for a couple of months before moving in to a flat share with a bloke a few years older than me. I soon realised my £300 per month didn’t go very far, but I had to step up to the plate and looked after myself ever since. How I survived is anyone’s guess, between drunken chip pan fires (flatmate and me both at separate times), a chimney fire and living off toast and frozen turkey burgers when money was tight. It must have been the beer that kept me alive

I have to ‘tag’ another two victims bloggers, so they can disclose their embarrassing firsts too.

So i’ll pick slightlysuburbandad and musodad because I can tag them on twitter and then run and hide.