So, a girlfriend of mine just texted me a picture of her son, dressed as "Chucky" for Halloween.
First: No. Chucky was a Ginger to the worst degree, and deserves to be accurately represented. Insults like this only perpetuate the Gingers day of reckoning. I mean, this is a pretty half-assed costume. All I'm saying is that if he showed up on my doorstep, I'd be inclined to withhold candy, on the basis of principle.
Second: Gingers are terrifying. This isn't as much my opinion as it is my mother's. She used to say if she ever had a kid with orange hair, she'd flush it down the toilet. So imagine her surprise when I was born Ginger. It was a scary time… for both of us.
Years later I sent her flowers on my birthday, thanking her for not flushing me. Not the first time I've been called inappropriate, but certainly the first time I've been judged so harshly by a florist.
Customer service isn't what it used to be.