Ho Chi Min Hinge Date

A “date” in the Southeast Asia Backpacking world

The kiss is really fucking bad.

We both know what’s about to happen, but I refuse to make the first move because I’m scared and not drunk enough, and I haven’t kissed anyone in nine months.

We’re sitting in a lounge chair by the pool—me up against the back him facing me—and we’ve run out of things to say; he starts complementing my rings, then my necklace, then I roll my eyes and say don’t forget my toe rings. He laughs and rolls around and places his head in my lap and I bite my lip not in a sexy way, but in a I’m trying not to laugh at how ridiculous this is way. I just stare at him; he stares back giving me puppy dog eyes. We sit this for many moments too long before he takes my hand and places it on his chest…

Is he trying to get me to feel up his pecs (not very existent), or is he trying to get me to feel his heart beating (I’m not a doctor but it doesn’t feel like it’s racing for me)? Either way this is making me want to throw up right on his face.

Before I get the chance, he gently pulls me down and our lips make contact and from the start I’m hating it.

I make myself stay in the kiss longer than I would like. Maybe we’ll ease into it, maybe it will get better. He sits up and faces me so (thank god) we are no longer upside down. It doesn’t get much better. But I stay a little longer, even though I can’t say I’m actually there.

I pull away and I give him a shy smile, trying not to wipe my lips “It’s time to go to bed.”