Alistair (Ali) has a new flatemate named Betsy. She’s American and in her mid 30’s. They didn’t realize until after Betsy moved in that she is a bit of an emotional mess because she’s recently separated from her husband. The first days in the flat she was walking around sobbing to the other flatmates.
Ali, being British, hid himself away and prayed that she would stop. It is important to know about Ali that if he did not use irony in every single conversation, he would explode. I’m not sure what his accent is. He said once, but I forgot. . . It sounds sort of cockney to my untrained ear, but I know he isn’t from London originally. Yorkshire maybe?
Every morning someone on my team asks Ali how Betsy is. This morning it was Chris. “So Ali? How’s Betsy?”
“Came home with some twenty-three year old.”(Ali is 24.)
“Hey, good for Betsy,” I said.
“Ginger,” Ali said. His voice dripped with disdain.
“What’s wrong with that?”
“What’s right with it?” He managed to drip even lower.
Ravleen, who is Indian British tried to explain the English negative feelings for those with red locks. As someone who always wanted to have red hair, I just don’t get this. Liz, (who is one of the most attractive women I have ever seen) decides to pipe up. Liz is black. “What about Nicole Kidman? There’s lots of pretty gingers.”
There’s lots of pretty gingers. Yes. That is what she said. At this point I’m laughing because it is so completely absurd to me. I almost said, “Some of my best friends are redheads.”
Through it all Ali had a look in his eye that said, “There’s no way that there are any pretty gingers and even if they were, it would still be disgusting.
Whatever. Way to go Betsy. I’m glad you got laid.
Even if he was ginger.
