"First Kiss," a video by director Tatia Pilieva, just went viral. In the video, 20 strangers are paired up and asked to kiss. It starts off a bit giggly — and a bit awkward. Then the music begins, and romance fills the room. The kisses are small to start. The strangers are self-conscious and insecure. But within moments, the kisses become heated. Never devolving into vulgarity, the first kiss may become passionate but always remains sweet. The short film teaches us that if we allow ourselves to give in, even a moment with a complete stranger can be intimate. Romantic. Touching. Electric. Sensual. Sexy.

And complete and utter crap. Yeah, you heard me. I'm calling BS.

I have had many first kisses with total strangers in my day, and they were NEVER that hot. Hmm, that sounded bad; allow me to explain:

In a worldwide conspiracy to dispel rumors of typecasting, I have been cast as the "slutty" character in nearly every theater production I've been in. Case in point, the only lingerie I own has come from costume departments. Playing these naughty ladies, I have had my share of onstage make-out sessions. But for as awkward as it is to perform these scenes in front of an audience, it pales in comparison with the teeth-shattering awkwardness of that first day of play practice. Mere minutes after meeting the actor who is to play your lover, you are sequestered to a private room where you shake hands and get down to the business of locking lips.

Kissing a stranger because you've been instructed to results in a very different type of first kiss than the one that happens naturally when you're attracted to someone and your skin is tingling and your mind is spinning. Spontaneous first kisses can be magic. Prompted first kisses are far from it.

In Pilieva's adorable two-minute documentary, we can feel the nerves that come with being assigned this primal task. The nerves are real. The giggles are real. The forgetting of the other person's name is real. But the video neglects to show the other real parts. Like how you suddenly become frighteningly aware of the smell of your breath. It doesn't matter that you just brushed your teeth before driving to the theater. You need gum, stat! The video doesn't show how you empty out your purse and pockets in a panicked pursuit of peppermints. Nor does it show how when you fail to find breath fresheners, you stealthily lick the seal of an envelope you found in your purse, hoping that will do the trick.

The viral video doesn't show how clammy your hands become. Or the sweat that forms on your upper lip. Or how when that stranger pulls you in close, you suddenly become fixated on how damp his or her hands feel against your skin. And all you can think about is going to the water fountain to splash water on your face. And on the back of your neck. And to swish and spit away that awful envelope taste in your mouth. Seriously, what were you thinking when you licked that thing?!

And the video certainly doesn't show how the heightened nerves and the absence of alcohol result in impaired lip-locking logistics when you finally go in for the kiss. You clang teeth against each other. Smash noses. Bump chins. And pull away more self-consciously than you started. This is the stuff seventh-grade anxiety dreams are made of.

To be fair, I really did love "First Kiss"; it is lovely. But it isn't my reality. If Pilieva wanted to do a real public service, she would have released another video compiled of all the outtakes. I want to see the uncomfortable moments. The accidental stepping on each other's feet. The weird kiss that somehow hits the cheek instead of the mouth. The lack of synchronicity in the timing and the intensity and the kissing style. C'mon, Tatia! Where's the outtakes video? The imperfect people of the world need this. I need this!

The last staged first kiss I had became the catalyst for my acting partner to come out of the closet. "I want to thank you. I wasn't sure before, but now I know for certain: I am definitely gay."

That stung a little, but it taught me something. Cinematic first kisses can be lovely. But the awkward kisses that we'd rather leave on the cutting room floor are the ones that let us know who we truly are.

Like Katiedid Langrock on Facebook, at http://www.facebook.com/katiedidhumor. To find out more about Katiedid Langrock and read features by other Creators Syndicate writers and cartoonists, visit the Creators Syndicate Web page at www.creators.com.