Gingerosity: It's incurable.

According to Urban Dictionary, Gingers are defined as: A human, characterized by pale skin, freckles and bright red hair. "Gingers" are generally considered to be inferior to their more melanin-rich brethren, and thus deservingly discriminated against. Gingers are thought to have no souls. The condition, "gingervitis" is genetic and incurable. 


Up until Freshman year of college, I had thought the term ginger referred to the pungent root used in cooking and traditional medicine; The fiery lump that the dining hall squished in with their "SUSHI " (or whatever it truly was); The flavoring Schweppes used in my ales to help soothe my stomach back in the days of plastic bags lining my locker because of daily morning sickness; The main squeeze on Nickelodeon's As Told By Ginger; The Spice Girl that got away. Then in my first year at Binghamton University, I was deemed a "ginger." Naturally, I thought the world found me spicy... zesty... full of flavor. Oh no. Not at all. That is not what was meant by my state of ginger. 

This poster most accurately describes today's current association with the word "ginger." My fellow redheads, we have South Park to thank for this affiliation.

Nowadays, the ginger is obviously the poster child for under-aged drinking and tacky mustaches at 7-11... 

At its most simple definition, a ginger represents a redhead with freckles. PLEASE DO NOT BE CONFUSED: This does not include redheads lacking freckles. They are an entirely different species. These creatures are known as Day Walkers. The day walkers are more inclined to possess souls and are therefore considered to be only half of a ginger. In my opinion, they are creepier than your average ginge. Perhaps I may be called biased. To each his own.

Though statistics vary, there seems to be a general consensus that redheads make up 4% of the population. We are few and far between, a rarity. The red-haired gene is known to skip a generation. In my case, my sister and I are both redheads from my mother's side (for YES, I am a redheaded step child), yet we cannot trace back where it may have come from. A family mystery revolving around two hot commodities. 

Throughout my life, my gingerosity has made me who I am.  I am stopped in bathrooms, throughout hallways and dressing rooms, streets and stores, and always informed while I am behind the bar that I in fact have THEE BEST HAIR. It begins with some gawking, awkward lingering of eyes on my head, occasional head shaking and gasping and follows with some variation of "you have the best hair," "has anyone ever told you that?" "I bet you get that constantly," "ugh I've been dying to get my hair that color." The complimenter generally loiters and continues to repeat their chosen comment several times before either a) asking to touch my hair b) just going for it and running their fingers through my hair unannounced or c) continuing to stare as I slowly back away. 

All in all, I have embraced my hair. I can no longer deny the power that it has. It can melt snow, blaze fires, and cause random customers to create "missed connection" posts on craigslist saying: 

Redheaded Bartender at Cirella's - m4w - 30

I think your name was Courtney? I was with a group guys sitting around the corner of the bar when your shift started yesterday. I think I have seen you there a couple times working, and we always seem to exchange eye contact or a smile. Can we get a drink or lunch someday? 

Without my ginger claim to fame, the customer who alerted me of this would not be able to identify which barmaid was being described in the headline. Creepy? Yes of course. It all comes with being amongst the rarity of that 4%. 

Gingerosity... the curse of being a glorious and extraordinary creature.