I love kisses. I love Europeans. But I hate awkward European kisses. Every time a super gay guy comes up to me and demands that we kiss on both cheeks, I want to shoot myself in the head. I always inevitably miss, have to make another awkward lean-in attempt and normally end up with someone’s canines biting into my forehead. I dislike this double-kissing phenomenon so much that I tend to just rub my cheek against theirs hoping my patchy Mexican-preteen stubble will make them break out.
I am from a small town in the South. I have never actually been to Europe. Even if I had, I am proud to be an American, where we say our “hellos” with a firm handshake and a long stare down the barrel of a shotgun. I am sure somebody somewhere decided that the double kiss was “super-chic” and “totally forward thinking” but we are the country that made an international celebrity out of Honey Boo-Boo. We are not chic, or forward thinking. We should own our trashiness and ditch the double kissing before a pandemic of European cooties sweeps through our country and decimates all life.
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