Romance is a tricky, complicated thing, and there are a lot of people who have other things going on in their lives, who have different priorities and just aren't interested, thank you very much. So let's not, okay!?


Perhaps a girl can be too careful with her kisses. Well, if she never falls in love, she won't even have to worry about it, will she?


It isn't often that the opening caption of a romance comic could, with minor changes, also find use as the opening caption of a horror story. Or maybe this IS a horror story - the horror of missing out on romance, which for people in these comics is indeed a horror.


At first glance you'd say this was an ordinary sandlot baseball game, except for the uniforms, and the equipment, and the regulation playing field. The girl? Pshaw, girls have been a fixture of actual sandlot baseball games ever since Charlie Brown put Lucy in the outfield.


I don't play a lot of baseball but I recognize this move as "The Floppy Pancake," invented by legendary third baseman Lefty McGonagle, right before he took a spike to the forehead and gave up the sport.


It's 1967, the coaching staff of any high school is only going to go so far when it comes to making sports gender-neutral. Don't fret Barbara, we can surely come up with something applicable to football that fits your specific set of characteristics!


It might be what society wants but cheerleading isn't going to satisfy Barbara, she needs to be out there with the football, getting some of that good CTE. But her parents worry. Not about sports-related injuries, but about when she'll stop being such a tomboy.


I'm with Barbara here - it's the mid 1960s, the music at this high school dance will be four teens who can barely play, belting out bad Beatles covers and "Louie Louie" for three hours.


Here's how they will convince Barbara that boys are great - some non-consensual kissing. Works every time, for certain very low values of "every."


Isn't this always how it goes, ladies? Some creep tries to put his tongue down your throat in the middle of the football stadium, and when you tell him to knock it off, suddenly YOU'RE the one who's raunchy? So far, this story is failing to really sell us on the idea of "dating" and "boys."


If it's a choice between sports or getting groped by Gropey Dateraperson, I'm gonna go with "sports"


it's that awkward yet touching conversation every mother has with her daughter about why she isn't teenage-pregnant yet.


Maybe you just haven't been surprised-kissed by the right boy yet! Maybe that's it.


It takes two to play tennis! Unless you have a brick wall and a rich imagination. Then it's all you!


Men seem to be a lot easier to handle when they're being run ragged on the tennis court.


It's a fierce serve from Ed, and Barbara returns the thinly-veiled date offer with a sizzling backhand smash that leaves no room for debate. And there's the whistle - it's in bounds!


The next day Ed gets the word "dance" in there first, forcing her to confront it head on instead of giving her a way to turn it back into tennis. You're learning, Ed!


It's always this way, you give these guys an inch and there they are, leaning in for some tonsil hockey. Wrong sport, Ed!


Well, Barbara has successfully driven another man into the arms of other men, which leads us to question which team Barbara is on, and who exactly is keeping score.


Ed figures, hey, if he can't get a kiss, he can at least work out his frustrations on the tennis court.


Now how about a date tonight? Here's my updated proposal, with what I think you'll find is a substantial intimacy notification clause. Have your people look it over, and give me a call when you've made a decision.


Just so you all know, a "rubber match" is a sports term, not some sort of pervy fetish thing, you sickos.


What's that? He's found someone else to play tennis with? Someone who might not reject his amorous advances?


Someone DEFINITELY not rejecting his amorous advances! You see somebody else kissing the guy you've been giving the brush-off to, and suddenly you experience strong emotions? Chances are fifty-fifty it's either love, or complete dog-in-the-manger jealously. Take your pick!


Is this all part of some kind of plan Ed cooked up to really foul up Barbara's tennis playing? If so, it's working!


"Yes Barbara, that was my sister I was just full-contact making out with. Just to, you know, mess with your head. Totally normal guy stuff and not creepy or manipulative in any way, I can assure you."


All it took was the shock of seeing Ed kiss his sister to make Barbara realize she was really in love. In love with a guy who contrived an entire fake scenario to outrage Barbara, and who enlisted his sister as his love-puppet in said scenario. Maybe Barbara should just back away slowly from this entire production? That's what *I* would love.

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