Mauled -- Bar Story #3

In December of 1988 I turned 16. For those of you who have read THE FEEDSTORE CHRONICLES you know my first kiss was with a girl named Anna Ochoa (least that is the name I gave her int he book). That kiss was a result of a game of spin the bottle.

The first kiss I ever received of a completely free will nature came from a
girl
no that's not right woman no that too is wrong old lady I got it wrinkly cougar at one of those dive Amarillo Boulevard joints I described in the last installment of bar stories.

It was New Year's Eve. We were saying goodbye to 1988 and hello to 1989. Brandon's mom had set him up with this new bartender at a joint called The Corral. She was only 19. Brandon was 17. It was a private New Year's party for the regulars. No one questioned either Brandon or me or our friend David who was either 17 or 18 at the time. The bartender was the only girl any where close to our age but we didn't care. We were spending New Year's in a honest to God bar. Drinking honest to God booze. 

Frankly I had no idea about the whole kissing at midnight tradition. I was happily buzzed as midnight approached and sure both Brandon and David had teased me all night about the "old lady" that had bought me a rum and coke and pinched me on the rosy cheek saying, "Ain't you a big ol' cute teddy bear."

But I was ill-prepared when the clock struck twelve and the woman grabbed me by the back of the head and laid a lip lock on me. 

These days the term cougar is common place back then there was no term. But there was chock ... fear ... and yes, revulsion. Becasue sadly the cougar that attacked me looked nothing like this ...

And a whole lot like this ...