First Impressions: The Michael Jackson Fan

Today, the world remembers Michael Jackson. When I think about the King of Pop, it reminds me of this incident.

It’s amazing how it’s the first encounters that stick with you. Some are the beginning of long chapters in your book. Some are only short excerpts that never get fully developed.

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“What are you listening to?”, was the first question she asked me. Others were too busy making fun of the fact that I still used a cd player, to ask me what was actually in it. I lent it to her and after a few seconds, a smile spread across her face, “I love Michael Jackson!”. It was the first week of college, and it was packed with enough activities for us to suppress any feelings of homesickness. There were laugh-till-your-belly-ache events, free-food events and isnt-that-the-guy-who-lives-down-the-wall-from-me-on-stage events.

The biggest one, that day, was the Orgasm event. It was to teach (eager and curious) college boys and girls (mostly boys) about how to have the best orgasm of their lives. how to do it right. It was all people talked about. on the bus. in the dining halls. in the kitchen. in the bathroom. Maybe, it was because for the first time, we were being given a space to talk about taboo subjects with people we barely knew. Maybe, everybody wanted to prove that they were mature enough, experienced enough, at least more cultured than the people who were bound to be giggling and turning all kinds of shades during the session.

Granted, there was the internet and a whole clinic stocked with a sexual education division on campus. But, who could trust those people anyway? For us, this was to be a night to top all nights.

Almost an hour after dinner that night, I realized that I no longer had my phone. I started to panic. This was my only link to the real world, I thought. Without it, I did not know my home phone number. Without it, I would never be able to talk to my parents ever again. I started to hyperventilate (Granted, there was e-mail, but who knows how long that would take to reach them). My new friends were concerned, but they had to leave early, because the event was probably going to fill up early. I understood and prepared to walk out by myself, armed with a flashlight.

“I’ll help you look for it”, she offered. So, while everyone hurried into one direction, we were retracing my steps, looking on the ground, with me desperately trying to hold back tears. So much for trying to be an adult. “Did you guys lose a blue phone?” “YES!!” . I shouted without knowing, to the two boys walking towards us. “Yeah, we found it a while ago, and we were going to turn it into one of the RAs”, said the one in the cargo shorts. “Thank you, thank you, thank you”, I mustered. I would have hugged him. Maybe I did.

By the time, we walked to the event, the room was so filled and spilled all the way down the stairs. We walked back, somewhat disappointed yet relieved.

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