My definition of a kiss in 1981 was to jam my tongue down the hapless female’s throat

Yeah. That always spelled "romance" to me.

What the hell was Mort thinking?

Exactly. What the hell was Mort thinking?

I can’t remember how long Graham worked at Kwiksave or why he left

Got a better job. Or hanged himself. That would be my guess.

My admiration grew despite the bad blackened incisor.

Oh, sweet Jesus.

This is like watching a trainwreck in slow motion. Did I mention it's triggered my PTSD??