O Hail Thee! Tampon!
Side Two of Three

"Hey, Lalat, come here."
"What?"
"Come, see this."
"What you got there?"
"Guess what?"
"What?"
"Tampon...", and with that, he moved his nose closer to the said object. Upon seeing my eyebrows lifted high and my jaws dropping low, Zaidi's face became brighter and his grin more evil and his eyes wider. It was clear that he was just as exhilarated as I was, although maybe he was a tad more enthusiastic about it, with his trembling fingers holding carefully the wings of the pad like it was a fragile timebomb, and as soon as he had whipped enough of the thing's glue-like scent into his nostrils, he waved it vigourously in front of my bewildered eyes, as if enticing me to try and touch it. Such a rare commodity to be found here in the boys' hostel, and here it was dangling like a forbidden fruit in front of me, and in such a pristine mint condition, oh how I regret pampering my moral conscience. However, much to Zaidi's dismay, that day I showed honorable restraint instead.

"Where did you get the damn thing?"
"Last night we went in again."
"Again? That's two times in a single month!"
"Yeah, and look at the catch this time. Nice, huh?"

Again, he held it up and in front of my eyes, the way the midmorning sunlight reflected upon its oval silhoutte shadow onto my forehead, such air of mystique, such majesty. That was not the first time that Zaidi had had me helpless under this spell of his, this submission of animal instinct, this withcraft of the male subconscious. Last time, he had me with a bra taken from the prefects' corridor hanger. He claimed that it was the personal property of a certain Form 3 junior prefect that he had laid his sleazy eyes on for a few weeks now. "This girl is an early bloomer, a puberty success story, big, big tits", he said of the girl to all of us his dormmates the day he first met her. Then, the next week, he dangled the girl's bra, his proof of conquest, and he had us all in awe. Now that he knew more of the girls' hostel interior details, he came back to enslave us once again.

"Is this whats-her-name's also?"
"No, not hers."
"Then who?"
"I don't know. Who do you know lives at the second room on 3rd floor?"
"No idea."
"Hm... I actually snatched this from an unlocked locker."
"Whose?"
"I don't know, I was in a hurry, the box had a noisy plastic wrapper."
"Who was your door security?"
"Niko. We went in with a 3-man crew."
"Just three?"
"It was too risky - full moon last night."
"And the corridor lights?"
"Jebir handled them."
"Why the tampons?"
"Why not? I've already got bras, panties..."

He may be street-smart and born a tough-talking, rough-living son of a bitch, but Zaidi was no genius; bras and panties were not sold in the school co-op store, but tampons were. And coming back from a girls' hostel break-in with a handful of unused and fresh-smelling tampons was a perfect example of a total waste of time and energy by a ragtag gang of goddamn idiots. Bragging aloud about it was then merely the sweet icing for his big fat cake of stupidity. Realizing this fact, I suddenly felt the desperate urge to pick myself up from my knees and wipe off the drool from the edges of my lips and slap myself on the forehead. Argh! and to think that he had me like a hungry dog for a bone with the tampon just now.

"You fucking fools, I pity you, Zaidi."
"What the hell for?"
"The fucking tampon, that's why."
"What?"
"You can buy them at the co-op, for fuck's sake."
"What?!"
"You can buy tampons from the co-op, you ass."
"You can?"
"No, I can't, but I see that you could sure use one."
"Oh fuck! You sure they have tampons at the co-op?"
"Yes, they do."
"But I've been to the co-op, and I don't remember seeing them."
"They are shelved under the window counter."
"Really?"
"Yeah, so that the boys wouldn't see them."
"And how in the hell do you know all this?"
"I helped Meor during their inventory audit."
"But you aren't a co-op member..."
"No, I'm not, but I take Principle Account and I am a senior prefect."
"Oh.... oh shit."

There are three keys to a successful girls' hostel break-in: first, being the most important, is the safe return; second, the valuable experience of the act, which includes the high adrenaline, the discovery of the hostel interiors, the sleeping girls that you see and -not exactly a necessity- fondle; and lastly, third, the souvenir. Some might argue strongly that such a concept of a "successful" girls' hostel break-in and the 3-key method to gauge that said success are nothing more than an entirely ridiculous, if not sinful and immoral, act of childish male bravado, but in the quasi-homoerotic world where boys shower naked together and share each other's soap and underwear called hostel life, such a fucked up barometer for succes is the only thing that separates the sheep from the shepperd, the pencildicks from the pornstars, and the boys from the men.

And with that, the tampon was nothing more than a wipecloth for vaginal gunk.


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