Thanks for the warning

From a conversation my sister and I had long ago when I was contemplating flying to Chicago to see a fantastically cute boy I met in a bar:

Sister: So how’s… Pete Smith? Joe Black? Tom Ford?

Me: Umm, Tom P—–?

Sister: Ha, I got his first name right. I knew it was something generic.

Me: He’s fine. I really want to go up there, but he’s not havin’ any of it.

Sister: You should come here. (pause) The kisses you get here will be different, though. I just think you should know that up front.