I was at one of those epic teenage make-out parties and my crush, Amanda, was there too. It was in the basement of our friend Jenny’s house. There were salty snacks and lava lamps and snap bracelets and plenty of subdued teenage hormones. This random mix tape was playing low in the room with all kinds of nostalgic ditties from the 80’s and 90’s, but one particular tune I will always remember with a secret smile.

It was getting late (10:30pm or so) and the party was divided into nervous pairs, all conjuring the courage and mustering the mettle to lock lips. Amanda and I inched closer and closer on the couch until finally the fever broke. With the soaring chorus of Sister Christian by Night Rider cheering us on, we launched enthusiastically into my first real kiss.

“You’re Motoring! What’s Your Price For Flight?”