My First Visit to a Girl's Room


  I grew up as the only child in my family. I was eternally curious about everything that moved, stopped or produced noise. It was a complete nightmare being my parents. The babysitters? I have a collection of death threat letters from them, metaphorically speaking. I learnt my cursing from them, so it’s not a complete loss.

  At the age of 9 years old, I was invited to a huge birthday party at the class monitor’s house. Her family is rich, with a huge front garden, museum basement, herbal green house, a garage the size of a shopping mall’s parking lot, army of hired help, enough gadgets to make James Bond jealous and did I mention her enormous library? I am so envious of her encyclopaedia sets. Touching those alone brought shivers up my spine. Leather-bound, A-Z, made in Britain. The best encyclopaedia I have at home was missing its cover and only covers topics that start with the letter M.

The leather-bound encyclopedia sets.


  The party was amazing! The school band was there, the food comes straight from a five star hotel, all adult were confined to a room next door, there is a dance floor and an 80’s disco ball hanging from above. After the tour of her house given by her father, I got curious and asked “Uncle Tony, why did you enrol your daughter in a public school when you can afford so much more?”

Tony Stark, her dad.

  “Son, I wished I could say because I owned that school, but I can’t. The actual truth is my daughter wanted to go to that school more than I love money. She definitely inherited her mother’s spirit.” Her father chuckled at his own joke.

  “Did she tell you why she wants to attend our school?”

  “Nope. She told her mom, not me. Girl talk, even I am not allowed to know. The library is behind that d-, “Before Uncle Tony finished his sentence, I was already racing to open that door.

  Halfway through the B encyclopaedia, the class monitor poked her head inside the library. “There you are! I was wondering where the class librarian went.” She walked in with a sandwich in a plate. She was dressed in blue with floral motifs. Her branded glasses alone was worth more than my father’s car.

  “It’s okay, I’m not a great dancer and I’m still full from the Kobe beef burger. Truly exquisite.” I smiled at her with bits of meat stuck between my teeth.

How the Kobe beef burger looks like.


  She sighed and reprimanded me. “The purpose of a social gathering is to socialize, not prepare for a pop quiz.”

  “What can I say? Books excite me more than people.” I shrugged.

  She placed her plate on the grand piano and begun pacing up and down the bookcase marked ‘Romance’. “I bet you never read a single Jane Austen novel in your life.” She took ‘Pride and Prejudice’ out of the bookshelf.

  “Romance novels? Bleargh.” I stick my tongue out in disgust to emphasize my point. “I rather read Iron Man comic books.”

My favorite Iron Man comic in my collection. 

  “Typical. But have you ever seen an 18th century room? I love Jane Austen works so much that I had Papa model my room 18th century style.” She took a seat next to me and flipped the book open to the page she bookmarked with. Her bookmark is a golden leaf with Asian characters engraved on it.

  “Wow, for real?” I also have a strong interest in architecture. Lego has planted the seeds of an architect in me.

  “Yes, for real. Come, I’ll show you.” She closed the book and placed it down. She took my hand after she got up and pulled me along.

  “But what about your sandwich?” I pointed to the Kobe beef sandwich with ranch dressing on the grand piano.

  “Hold it for me, please?” She batted her eyelids. I took the plate in my left hand and she led me out of the library with my right hand.

  She wasn’t kidding. Her room was really designed to look like an 18th century room. The curtains, carpet, chairs, bed, cupboard, wallpaper all fit within that era. I sat down at her bed and placed her sandwich next to me. She lied down on her bed and started asking me questions.

How her bedroom looks like.


  “What do you think of our class this year?” We were in the same class for 3 years straight.

  “Pretty good. Wilson is kind enough to give me his old games. Jason has a crush on a girl next class.” I remarked casually while turning my head left and right, absorbing the culture rich room.

  “Really? I never knew that. Do you have a crush on anybody in our class?” She covered the top of her face with her pillow when she said this.

  “Me? Nah, they’re all nice girls but I like books more than girls.”

  “Ehhhh, you don’t like girls?” She got up suddenly and hovers dangerously near my face.

  “T-t-t-that’s not what I meant. I mean, attraction only really kicks in at puberty. I read that somewhere.” I pushed her away slightly, but not too much to appear impolite.

  “Yeah, at puberty I will get pimples and blackheads. I will look ugly….” She twirled her hair with her finger as the sentence trailed off.

  “It isn’t that bad. I’m sure you will look pretty despite those pimples. There’s always facial cleanser, moisturizer and pimple cream for those.” I stared at the floor and started swinging my legs.

Facial cleansing products.


  She threw her pillow at me and I tried to dodge. My left hand accidentally pressed on her cold sandwich and squirted the ranch dressing on my pants. As the ranch dressing dripped down my leg, I thought to myself, "Hmm. It might make good moisturizer."

  “You’re just saying that now. Oh no, look at that mess. I’m sorry, let me clean that up.” She got up from the bed and took a box of tissues from the side table. She started wiping the ranch from my pants when I noticed that she smells like flowers. All thoughts of making millions of money with a moisturizer based on ranch evaporated.

  “Why do you smell like lavender?”

  “Oh, you noticed? I sprayed some of my mom’s expensive perfume to celebrate the occasion. Hmm, your pants are ruined now. We can’t have you walking around the party looking like that.” She walked towards her cupboard and took out a pair of jeans. “Here, you can wear these instead. Return them to me at school after you washed them.” She threw the jeans on my face.

Her mom's expensive lavender perfume.

  “Okay. Where’s the bathroom?”

  She pointed to a blue door marked with W.C. I got up, went inside and changed my pants. Even the bathroom is bigger than my parent’s bedroom.

  After that, I went home before the party is over. My dad asked me a few questions about the party and my pants. I joked about everyone playing paintball indoors and my pants got hit. I think Dad believed me. My first visit to a girl’s room wasn’t that bad. It turned out way better than the many visits I will make to her room in the future.


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