Proper Kiss Etiquette

I grew up in the Northeast and moved to the South in my 30s. There were the predictable culture shock moments and a few fish-out-of-water situations. Somewhere along the way, the Catholic Church went from being the conservative voice to a hotbed of liberalism but by and large, Starbucks and Walmart are everywhere and all the same.

"No idea who you are."

However, there is still one glaring situation that brings out the Yankee in me. As I grow older, more women apparently want to kiss me. My 18 year-old self would have been thrilled to know this but would have gagged at the kisses I am getting.

It's the "Hey super nice to meet you, this first 3 and a half seconds has been great so let's do the cheek-kiss thing." And as they are coming in, I am in full blown panic.


The issue is that there are only two choices as to how this kiss is going to end up.
1- Cheek to cheek with all four lips kissing the air.
2- Lips to cheek for one person and lips to the air for the other.

Scenario 1 is golden. Equal and not really a kiss, just a creepy way-too-friendly gesture that still respects the fact that you don't know each other. Imagine if you also let your hand hover around each other's butts but didn't really pat them, same bizarre kind of deal.

Scenario 2 is what ALWAYS happens. If one of the people actually puts their lips on the other's cheek, they have also removed their own cheek from the kissable range.

See for me, if I kiss the air and she plants it on the cheek, I am in effect saying,
"Thanks for pegging me as a suitable person to smooch, but I find you gross and therefore no kiss for you." Despite the fact that this the best outcome that I could hope for, it still panics me. Enough so, that occasionally under fire I go in for the cheek only to remember too late that there is NO such thing as an equal cheek kiss. And that's when the wheels come off the cart. It suddenly dawns on me that I am going to be the creepy guy who plants a huge kiss on the cheek of someone I don't know so, I pull back- but never in time. The end result is a light, sensual brushing kiss, an audible groan (undoubtedly mistaken for a moan), followed by stammering apologies and convulsions on my part.

I still have no game plan for the next time this happens. I still have no idea what our fine Southern ladies are expecting; cheek or air. So for now, I wear three days of unwashed stubble to make my face as unkissable as possible.