True story.
This happened in 2001. I was accepted in a college in Melaka. I basically got to see the same 30 faces from secondary so I felt quite at home. I only had one problem. The thing I was scared most was boys. Yes, I had an acute gasp when I see one. Having never been so close to one in five adolescent years (I was put behind a girls’ school bar), I put them in one hazardous category : Live Specimen. Do Not Stare/Touch/Speak.
I’ve heard rumors that even the most good looking ones are rude, obnoxious and possibly cunning. During the first day of registration all I did was looking for a species of non-existent weed. It uncomfortable, unnecessary and annoying.
I hope to get it all over and done with.
I can’t sleep thinking about the first day of lecture. There would be hundreds of them, with their ties, pressed pants, pastel shirts tucked-in, all ready with their little stationary cases and mind alert for a possibly witty comebacks.
I had to coax myself to think about inner peace and fell asleep.
So first thing the next day I spent the entire morning being presented to the huge college. We were showed the library, the administration office, the laundry, the girls’ hostels, the boys’, the co-op (the only shop that sells everything a student might need) and our lecture halls.
Several boys passed. Laughing out loud.
Inner peace. Inner peace.
In the middle of a hot day, just outside the co-op a group of girls gathered round, whispered and giggled (no one would dare to laugh out loud in front of the boys. Ever!) Then one of the girls went after another group, did the same thing and out with the same outcome. This happens for about half an hour so all that I can saw was giggling girls with blushing cheeks trying to hide their pretty little faces from the sun.
One boy passed, eyes bulging and looking at me like he mean it.
Inner peace.
The giggles seemed to be contagious. After what seemed to be an infinity of minutes, I asked.
“What’s so funny?”
“You mean you don’t know about it yet?”
“I suppose.”
“There was a..(giggles) a boy….(giggles) who…who..(giggles) forgot to..(giggles) unzip his…(giggles) pants!”
“And?”
“It’s funny! Can’t you see? Everybody is laughing at him. We can see his white underwear. What a dork!”
“Why don’t you tell him?”
“No way! Are you crazy? He’s a boy! It’s not proper!”
“Then it’s proper to spread his humiliation to everyone?”
She scoffed and left. I felt sick. Is this what you normally do to other people? That boy is generating quite a fan-base. I’ve decided to look for him and tell him. I don’t know why. It was definitely easier to sit back and laugh along but I didn’t. I would rather check for unzipped pants and see if I got any luck.
Euw.
Inner peace. Inner peace.
Please God, help me find this boy.
The hunt for the white underwear lasted about 15 minutes. I admit it was really awkward to search for one opened crotch in a sea of unopened bulges. Maybe this is how a sex-maniac did it. Crazy freak!
Inner peace.
So when I saw him in the co-op along with tiny little giggles here and there, I knew that the boy with glasses was the targeted entertainer of the day. I cornered him at the tampon/pad section (my hands were shaking. Innerpeace.Innerpeace.Innerpeace!) and stopped him from going anywhere.
“I am so..so sorry to do this to you. Please, we need to talk.”
“Wha…? Do I know you?”
“No. But please listen. Erm..You have your fly hanging out.”
“Pardon?”
“I mean you forgot to unzip your pants.”
Inner peace. Inner peace. Inner…
I saw the boy went from a slight cream tone to pinkish and later to sour plum before ending like a choked eggplant.
“Thanks…I…”
I did not listen to anything after that, I don’t even remember his face. I just ran out from the co-op mortified with shame. Needless to say, my inner peace died that day.
I wonder how could the society finds this entertaining. What if the situation puts you in the spotlight next time? Do you like to be the news spread like open fire, laughed by the community? Aren’t we supposed to be civilized?
I really don’t get it.
As for my inner peace, she was substituted by a better counterpart; inner bitch 🙂
That’s my girl.
[bisa] 