The First Real Outing During the Second Month of My First Time in Korea

2 Hours 6 minutes and 12 seconds.

That’s the total amount of time it has taken so far to simply prepare to go to the mall. Which Mir decided we would do. Which I did not know of until about three minutes ago. So why did it take so long for five males to get ready, you ask?

The village idiots decided they were going to disguise themselves.

“We can’t be seen with you,” Cheondung explains as I sit on the tub ledge, watching as he puts on a red mustache. Yes, mustache. Yes, red. “So, instead of disguising you like a man—which would be hard because we’re shopping for you, we decided to disguise ourselves.”

So now he’s in several lays of clothing, making him appear about fifty pounds heavier, and he’s got a hood and hat on, and now he’s applying a red mustache. And to think: that’s just one of the Blaqies.

The last time I checked on G.O., he had a blonde wig. And not just any wig. A long wig. Like, a woman’s wig. I haven’t checked on him since. Joon was walking with eyeliner (I know you’re an idol, but why do you have that?) out of the kitchen earlier, with his hair spiked up in weird angles while singing “Touch My Body” by Mariah Carey. I’m a little afraid to admit I haven’t seen Mir or Seungho since Mir announced to the dorm that we were going shopping for me, which means I haven’t seen them at all, though earlier there was a strange shrieking noise that sounded like Mir’s interpretation of a cat earlier…

I’d snuck off to the local market to get some cereal (the boys can’t live without their Frosted Flakes: it’s weird) and then explored for a good hour or so. When I came home, the boys were running around and yelling (not that strange, I’ll admit) but then I noticed that there seemed to be a method to the madness, and after fighting with them for a good half hour, they finally told me.

They’re taking me shopping. All day. All plans have been cancelled to go a mall and a furniture store and a salon and (I actually asked for this one) a gym membership.

“But why are you people going to such an extreme?” I ask, leaning my head against the wall. All this preparation has given me a headache. I know it will take me about two seconds to get ready.

He laughs, “Honestly?”

I snort, “No, I want you to lie to me.”

He laughs again, and then turns to me, leaning against the sink. He shrugs, “It’s fun.”

Strange banging sounds come from the end of the hall, before I hear, “Lucy-yah!”

G.O. is in a blonde Hannah Montana rip off. There’s thick eyeliner on his lower lids, making his eyes that much smaller. He’s in tight jeans and a hoodie, but the hoodie is sort of tight, and…he is totally wearing one of my bras. I quirk an eyebrow, a girl doesn’t share her bras with boys, and eye his s pointedly. He laughs nervously, “Joon!”

And then I see Joon and end up in the tub from laughing so hard. Now not only is his hair spiked up strangely, but he’s in elegant reading glasses, and there is a giant fake mole on his nose. The zebra print button down and black pants—ya know, those ones that are really baggy and then tighten at the calves, complete the look. He cracks a smile at me, and the mole twitches. I laugh harder.

The boys are mumbling to themselves, but my Korean brain has shut off at the hilarity of their costumes. They give me a few minutes to laugh before dispersing, waiting.

I run into my room, changing into a ratty pair of jeans and an MBLAQ t-shirt, just to spite them. The kitchen seems to be where all the noise is—and boy is there a lot of it—and I immediately understand when I see Mir and Seungho. Current twins.

Both of them, with their hair done identically, in the exact same pair of jeans, and the exact same t-shirts(MBLAQ shirts, I note), and the same shoes—only in different colors.

I snort, “You guys are so weird.”

Cheondung laughs.

G.O., speaking in an over exaggerated falsetto voice, begins prancing past me, and says, “Let’s go!”

***

3 hours, 47 minutes, and 39 seconds.

That’s how long we’ve been in the mall. I, honestly, have not picked out a single piece of my own clothing; MBLAQ has taken over my wardrobe.

Apparently after doing lord only knows what, the boys obtained ₩650000 to spend on my clothes. That’s just over $600.

I don’t think the boys were ever given that much to spend for themselves all together. Mir complained about that for a little while, but then shut up when I told them they could buy themselves whatever toys they wanted.

In case you’re wondering, yes, we did spend almost an hour in the stores that focus on toys (like, toy guns) and games (like, StarCraft).

After a while, however, Cheondung and Seungho decided it was time to shop for me, which shocked the crap out of me considering Seungho is addicted to electronics and Cheondung is a game freak. Anyway, we got my measurements, and I’ve been pushed to every store in sight ever since. Three new bags, four pairs of shoes, a bunch of graphic t-shirts, jeans, skirts, a few dresses, belts, shorts, everything imaginable. They are smart shoppers, too; almost everything bought was on sale.

Now they are actually picking lingerie out for me. This has been going on for a few minutes.

Cheondung holds up a leopard print DD bra. Before I can even speak, G.O. says, in Korean, “That’s way too big.”

I turn, glare at the cross dressing furball. Mir laughs, says something in Korean. But it sounded like gibberish to me, as it usually does with Mir, so I look over at Cheondung. He purses his lips to keep from laughing, “He asked what the correct size is.”

And then I look over at G.O., whose hands are in his hoodie, feeling my bra.

What the hell.

Just then, Joon runs over, wearing a pink teddy. Yes, wearing. Over his clothes, you erts.

“Aish,” Seungho, who had been quiet throughout most of the happenings, says, stalking over to G.O., lifting up his hoodie, and checking my bra size.

38C, I think, as Seungho says, “85D.”

What?

I look over at Cheondung, alarmed. He stares at me for a moment, confused. “I am not an 85D!” I exclaim, “I didn’t even know that was possible!”

He laughs, “Korean measurements, Lucy-yah.”

Oh, right.