Picture an irregular circle of teenage girls and guys, all in various positions of repose and post-pubescent development, surrounding an empty decanter of cheap Chardonnay.
One leans forward and deftly twirls the container.
The majority of the assembled crowd collectively lean forward as one, whilst others test the capabilities of their peripheral vision to breaking point in an effort to view the results whilst feigning disinterest in this whole childish charade.

After what seems like an eternity, it stops. As does time, hearts (albeit briefly), and an ability to communicate with the opposite sex.

Welcome, my friends, to yours truly's initiation to 'Spin The Bottle'.

So there I am, a 13-year old, slightly (and I use the technical term here), 'spazzy', kid, alternately looking down at the Bottleneck Of Destiny (which now points in my direction), and subsequently across at a girl whose looks I could only describe as 'interesting*'.
My initial thought is to calmly and quietly inhale my own tongue, but this is quickly replaced by the infinitely more cunning 'get up and run away'.

However, before either of these devastatingly brilliant plans can be put into action, I am snapped out of my reverie by an announcement from the ringleader of this alcopop-fuelled excuse for human debasement.

"Ok Sally, you have to kiss Miles"

I glance over, and for some reason she's staring at me with a quizzical look.
A thousand thoughts begin to run through my head (along with the 30 litres of pure testosterone and half a West Coast Cooler).
What is she like to kiss?
what if she sticks her tongue in? (I've never actually done that before)
what if she bites me?
what did she have for lunch?

Realising that the sooner I get this over with, the sooner I can go back to sitting on the carpet looking windswept and interesting, I stand up and walk nonchalantly over to her.
She rises as well, all glasses, teased hair and bangles, and takes a step in my direction.
We are now only inches apart.

I lean in slightly, hoping that this herculean effort on my part will be enough to tip the balance and initiate some sort of physical contact.
She opens her mouth slightly. My eyes close in anticipation..

After a few seconds, my wait is rewarded.

"Okay, there is no fucking way I'm kissing that guy", she says, and sits down, leaving me standing alone in the midst of a giggling circle of my peers..

Ow.


There are (at the time), insignificant events in our lives that affect us more than we will ever realise, and shape us into becoming the person that we are today.
Our thoughts, habits and psyche are all moulded from these insular bubbles of interaction that occur at regular intervals throughout our lives, and from my own understanding, knowing why you are is a step towards realising who you are.




* Interesting like Darryl Somer's jumpers