Dot in the Sky (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
dotinthesky) wrote2003-11-28 10:25 am
dotinthesky) wrote2003-11-28 10:25 am
The Trouble with Ginger Minger
What's the official definition of stalker? Is a stalker someone who constantly follows you, tries to break into your private life? Or can this word be used for someone who behaves abnormaly around you, without ever trying to make contact - in a way, a person who wants you to notice them at all costs (but in a very non-communicative way)? And more importantly, do I secretly enjoy (and want) a stalker so I can talk about him/her here?
Ginger Minger seems to be developing quite nicely in the category. In fact, he has no competition.
Quick recap:
- I join my work's gym and notice weird, muscly, thin, ugly ginger individual who likes to take long showers, and takes even longer to get dressed (this involves sticking his bum out while putting a sock on for 10 minutes).
- I go to gym regularly and said individual seems to be always there. We always end up naked in a very small space (our Hitchcock-like changing room.)
- I witness said individual's puckering asshole looking at me, like a pink rabbit's eye.
- I witness what seems to be a jerk off session by said individual, with moans and groans, inside a shower stall.
- I change my hours at gym to avoid said individual; i begin to wear flip-flops in the locker-room and I never ever use second shower-stall from the right.
- Ginger Minger seems to notice my strategic moves. When he sees me, he stops and tries to catch me watching him. I perfect the look of "not-looking-at-you-but-knowing-your-moves-through-the-corners-of-my-eyes".
Recently, I've also noticed that he takes the same Tube line as me (Bakerloo). Because I read in the Tube, I don't have time to look around and watch my fellow dozing passengers... so I don't know how many times he must have been in the same carriage as me - inspecting. I caught him twice. And today was the second, and most bizarre of them.
I was engrossed in the epilogue of Madness and Modernism when something made me look to my left. Lo and Behold, there sat Ginger Minger in his full self-conscious glory. I quickly returned to my book. He began to stretch! I wouldn't look. He began to cough, loudly. I still wouldn't look. *Cough* *Cough* Nope, I'm not taking my eyes off my book and giving this pleasure to a Ginger Exhibitionist (that's what he is, if you want to get Freudian.)
The train arrived at Waterloo. I went for the door furthest away from him. I stepped outside and watched Ginger Minger spring down the exit, fast as a gazelle, wearing only a black t-shirt, trousers and a black cap!!!!!!!! Before you can scream "1987 Culture Club", let me tell you that today is a freezing day, with cars covered in white frost, breaths travelling in the air like vapours. Now I know Ginger Minger is mad. He quickly climbs the escalator ahead of everyone and disappears.
I return to my book as I climb the escalator. I go through the turnstiles and, as I step outside, my ticket falls to the ground. I bend down to collect it and begin to walk towards my work. I suddenly stop to look back, wondering if something else fell out of my wallet. Who is there, following me?
Ginger Minger!
Ginger Minger seems to be developing quite nicely in the category. In fact, he has no competition.
Quick recap:
- I join my work's gym and notice weird, muscly, thin, ugly ginger individual who likes to take long showers, and takes even longer to get dressed (this involves sticking his bum out while putting a sock on for 10 minutes).
- I go to gym regularly and said individual seems to be always there. We always end up naked in a very small space (our Hitchcock-like changing room.)
- I witness said individual's puckering asshole looking at me, like a pink rabbit's eye.
- I witness what seems to be a jerk off session by said individual, with moans and groans, inside a shower stall.
- I change my hours at gym to avoid said individual; i begin to wear flip-flops in the locker-room and I never ever use second shower-stall from the right.
- Ginger Minger seems to notice my strategic moves. When he sees me, he stops and tries to catch me watching him. I perfect the look of "not-looking-at-you-but-knowing-your-moves-through-the-corners-of-my-eyes".
Recently, I've also noticed that he takes the same Tube line as me (Bakerloo). Because I read in the Tube, I don't have time to look around and watch my fellow dozing passengers... so I don't know how many times he must have been in the same carriage as me - inspecting. I caught him twice. And today was the second, and most bizarre of them.
I was engrossed in the epilogue of Madness and Modernism when something made me look to my left. Lo and Behold, there sat Ginger Minger in his full self-conscious glory. I quickly returned to my book. He began to stretch! I wouldn't look. He began to cough, loudly. I still wouldn't look. *Cough* *Cough* Nope, I'm not taking my eyes off my book and giving this pleasure to a Ginger Exhibitionist (that's what he is, if you want to get Freudian.)
The train arrived at Waterloo. I went for the door furthest away from him. I stepped outside and watched Ginger Minger spring down the exit, fast as a gazelle, wearing only a black t-shirt, trousers and a black cap!!!!!!!! Before you can scream "1987 Culture Club", let me tell you that today is a freezing day, with cars covered in white frost, breaths travelling in the air like vapours. Now I know Ginger Minger is mad. He quickly climbs the escalator ahead of everyone and disappears.
I return to my book as I climb the escalator. I go through the turnstiles and, as I step outside, my ticket falls to the ground. I bend down to collect it and begin to walk towards my work. I suddenly stop to look back, wondering if something else fell out of my wallet. Who is there, following me?
Ginger Minger!
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and don't worry, i can read french. if you never ever want to write in English, that won't be a problem for me. =]
sometimes things don't appear to be going the way we want, but you shouldn't lose hope... just try to have fun, to enjoy yourself and don't worry --> i'm sure things will get better.
;]
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But seriously, I think this body-naturalism thing has gone too far when some guy will stick his arsehole in your direction. We Americans keep them nicely pointed to the stalls or mightily clench our buttocks so they don't show if we must point them away from the wall.
Why do you call him the Ginger Minger? Ginger means red-haired, right?
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He sticks his butt all the way out, almost as if he's offering it to the guys in the room... it's really annoying. I've seen guys come into the locker room, see his stuff on the bench (because he's showering) and make little gestures to each other as saying "oh uh! he is HERE!"
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ohhhh! that would explain the website minger.com or whatever it is. there's some guy on friendster with the name minger. wonder if it's from that?
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or maybe he doesn't know what the word really means?
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;]
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be careful love
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you might not get that reference..
misfits....
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so how are you today?
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and how are you mr ginger killer?
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yay!
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then on saturday I have my staff christmas party...
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you are watching 3 movies tonight???
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and it is early but not that early....it's very hard to get people together closer to christmas, so the last couple of years we have had it earlier and we have a fabulous turn out
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=]
but i want to have a good christmas dinner with Kevin.
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the return of ginger minger
Re: the return of ginger minger
Re: the return of ginger minger
and oh!
could you please be so kind and email me yer home address? cos i've lost yours. ;)
pantomimewhore@yahoo.co.uk
:D
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=]
and no... i won't be speaking to him anytime soon... i'd rather go on thinking that I'm imagining things.
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