Dating in the Time of Tinder is hard. Dating as divorced mom in the Time of Tinder is harder. And dating as a divorced mom in her mid-40s in the Time of Tinder…near impossible.

One thing that would make it easier, saving us valuable time and effort—bad kissers should wear a shirt announcing their affliction.

It’s only fair.

We should know what we’re dealing with at a distance so that we’re not emotionally invested when the first kiss rolls around and — eww.

A bad kisser cannot be saved by a fat bank account, a hot car, or a handsome face. I don’t care if you’re the nicest guy ever and you’re built like Hugh Jackman, talk like Colin Firth, and dance like Usher — if you can’t kiss, it’s over.

I wish Eduardo had worn a warning shirt.

Over from Italy on a soccer scholarship, Eddie wore lots of t-shirts (mostly Umbro and Adidas) but none that announced his inability to kiss. While I’m guilty for buying the “Italian Stallion” stereotype and assuming that all Italian men are as adept as Don Giovanni, Eddie bears most of the blame.

To be fair, it wasn’t his technique that was awful so much as his equipment. But bad kissing is bad kissing, and if kissing were an Olympic sport, it would be judged on technique, passion, and equipment. A person can probably do some research and improve their technical skills, and with enough of the right practice increase their passion. But equipment? Short of plastic surgery, you’re stuck with the mouth you have.

And lips.

And tongue.

Have you ever eaten cow tongue? I’m not saying Eddie’s tongue was that big, or that thick, but the taste buds, man. The size of those *#@^%& taste buds! It was like Eddie had scrawled a message to me on his tongue — in Braille. One kiss, and I got the message loud and clear.

If only it had been written on his shirt.



Bio: Marissa Glover lives in Florida, where she was born and raised, but she isn’t to blame for election results. When she isn’t mothering or teaching, Marissa shares her thoughts more than necessary, which she considers a form of charitable giving. If it counted as a tax deduction, she’d be rich. Her work has appeared in various places including Blunt Moms, 4 Boys Mother, and her parents’ refrigerator. You can find her on Facebook here.

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1 Comment

  1. My husband is the best kisser, probably on the planet. We don’t even have a great sex life any more, but he can still kiss like nobody’s business. And I’m not being partial, I’ve kissed a good number of men in comparison. We got together later in life. He was number one by miles.

    Girls, get yourselves a saxophone player. Soft lips. Strong tongue. Amazing breath control.

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