The Lost Art of the Hickey


One of my co-workers came to the office today with an obvious hickey between her neck and shoulder, but she thought I was juvenile for noticing it.

Ready for your present?

“How old are you again?” she asked.

“Old enough to remember hickeys obviously.”

“Don’t you mean ‘Not too old to have forgotten hickeys’? You think young people don’t know what hickeys are?”

Maybe I should have said, “Old enough to remember when hickeys were a standard element of the teenage repertoire.”

But actually, I don’t think kids know what hickeys are. I haven’t even heard the word “hickey” in years. I think hickeys, like plaid pants, are a relic of a bygone era.

Girls are much more forward now, if the messages in my son’s yearbooks are any indication. If girls are offering oral sex in junior high school, what are you going to say? “Can I give you a hickey first”?

P.S. As I suspected, my 15-year-old son has no idea what a hickey is.

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