By Travis Mounts, managing editor
I’m really not sure how to dive into this story, so I’ll go in head first.
On Saturday, I was in Wichita running some errands for work. Sitting in a parking lot, I looked out the front passenger window and saw something that did not look right.
It did not look right, and it did not make any sense.
There was a set of lip prints on the window. After a moment, I realized there was not one, but two sets of lip prints. From the outside, a little bit of red lipstick could be seen in the second set of lip prints.
The other thing that was readily apparent was just how filthy the window and the rest of my car was.
Among all the other thoughts quickly passing through my mind was this one: Eww.
I have a decent looking car, but I’ve never thought it stood out so much that it needed to be kissed. I love my car, and I’ll even talk to it. It’s never dawned on me to show it physical affection outside of car washes and regular maintenance.
Could these lip prints have been meant for me? I guess so. If they were meant for me, however, they probably should have been planted on me instead of my car.
Next, I thought about where I might have been where this could have happened.
Last Friday, my car took me to high school football games in Conway Springs and Cheney. I suppose those are possible locations. Teenagers do all kinds of weird, spontaneous things. The part of their brains that handle impulse control is still developing.
It’s been a little while since my car was washed, so there were other opportunities for the car-kissing bandit.
I was at a drag brunch the previous Saturday, which I highly recommend, by the way. It was so much fun, and the mimosa towers are a wonderful, terrible idea.
The next night I was at the Kansas State Fair in Hutchinson to see Gabriel “Fluffy” Iglesias. Much of the filth on my car was picked up in the grass parking lot there. Jeff Foxworthy and many other comics have done hilarious bits about the kinds of folks you can find at a state fair.
“If you kiss random cars, you might be a redneck,” I can imagine Foxworthy saying.
At this point, I’m mostly just amused and puzzled. And I’m slightly worried about the mouth health of the kisser. Or maybe kissers? I have not checked to see if the prints look like they are from one single set of puckered lips or two different sets.
The prints may have been there awhile. I suppose somebody could have kissed my car before it got all dirty at the state fairgrounds.
If you have been out kissing black four-door sedans lately, I think I might like to talk to you. Maybe. Over the phone. Let’s take this one step at a time.
And please know that I’m approaching this solely as a journalist looking for the rest of the story.
Until then, I suppose I will just have to treat the lip prints as an unsolved mystery, like Bigfoot or the Loch Ness Monster.