Not-Exactly-Chopped-Liver Fiction™
a could-be-worse division of None-Too-Shabby Enterpises, Ink
PRESENTS :
The History of Gin
or
A Fox's Tail©
Is Life Existential? You Decide.
by ' Colorado ' Gumi
...I n s p i r e d By T r u e E v e n t s...
Chapter 15
Moby-Gin
or
A Fox's Tail©
Is Life Existential? You Decide.
by ' Colorado ' Gumi
...I n s p i r e d By T r u e E v e n t s...
Chapter 15
Moby-Gin
Call her Ginger Sue. Ginny wasn't a dolphin very long before deciding she really liked it.
It certainly wasn't as bad as that time she'd been a Barbie doll -- She'd hated that. Life as Barbie was pathetic; filled with phony people and plastic things. Plus Gin found that though Barbie is supposed to come with Ken; she really came best with GI Joe ...and most the time Ken was in the closet with The Incredible Hulk anyways. But the worst part was having to be friends with that psycho twat, Malibu Stacey. Yes, life as a dolphin was much better than being the bulimic bleached blond bimbo, Barbie. (However, Gin did agree with Barbie that Math class is tough.)
It all started when Ginger was at her favorite place, Coney Island, considering the looming Bar Exam -- where aspiring lawyers must pass a bar without going in. Not paying much attention, her adjectives got confused and she took a long walk on a short pier. With too little pier and too much walk, the immutable Laws of Physics decreed that she tumble into the sea and become a dolphin, kinda like "The Incredible Mr. Limpet." It happens all the time at Coney Island, which is part of the place's charm -- In fact it's a popular local spectator sport, like "Dwarf Tossing". . .only not as potentially demeaning to dwarfs.
Gin was happy to be a Bottlenose Dolphin. She was very gray... Dark gray at the top near the dorsal fin varying to light gray and almost white on her underside. Though on first blush this motif might be thought pedestrian, Gin felt the style was classic -- refined and dignified like gray formal Morning Dress (she always had a "thing" for top hat and spats). Such coloration, in addition to being fetching on Ginny, made her harder to see both from above and below when swimming, kinda like the combat paint scheme on a B-52.
Elongated upper and lower jaws formed her "rostrum" or "beak" (it did take a while for Ginny to come to grips with the thought "I have a Beak" in her internal dialog). Her real nose was the blowhole on top of her head. She rather liked having her nose up there, it wasn't in the way so much. Of course her face showed that warm "Flipper smile"... but then a radiant smile is characteristic of Gin in all her manifestations and possibly is the part I like best (not to imply that Ginny is composed of allocable "parts", like a chicken at the dinner table).
Dolphins don't sit around on couches or La-Z-Boys watching TV and "vegging-out." Gin was always swimming, a great exercise, and easily kept in shape without having to drop big bucks at some spa. She didn't have thighs, hips or waist to fret about ...And only weighed 460 pounds. Plus she found that dolphins weren't as hung-up on the images concocted by Madison Avenue and didn't bother at all with cosmetics. Ginny did miss her tumbling tresses, but then she had a neato dorsal fin instead, and as a dolphin she never had to have her tail hot-waxed. All in all she found her new lifestyle healthy and suspected she might even be smarter than before, probably from eating so much fish, a scientifically documented brain food.
Meals were a cinch; eat a nearby fish. No agonizing or arguing over cooking in, going out, or having delivery -- no disastrous home cooked meals with heaps of dirty dishes, no disappointing meals at supposed good restaurants, no gawking pizza delivery boys when answering the door ...Plus she'd had a particular taste for raw fish ever since the night little 4-year-old Ginny ate all the guppies in her father's aquarium while he was at the Broadway premier of "Miss Saigon."
Dressing was a breeze, too. She just went around bare-assed all day long. Ginny didn't miss Prada or Gucci or Manolo. Actually the only thing she did miss was Fendi... that and bubble baths.
As for entertainment... In their aquatic domain dolphins are like 6 year-old boys on Christmas that play all day in the cardboard box while a big expensive gizmo it contained sits neglected in a corner. There was no great quest for entertainment -- it was everywhere; readily assessable. No need for theaters or TV's... If Gin wanted to see "The Little Mermaid", she just swam over and said "Hi." And she didn't need nightclubs, she could dance with her pals on any wave.
All this with no expenses... Any dolphin in the sea is richer than Bill Gates, who would be way over his head in the ocean.
After acclimating to the ways of cetaceans and the sea, Ginny (with time on her flippers) decided to embark on improving travel and set out for the Mediterranean tour she long had craved.
As she blithely pursued her perambulation, Gin frequently came upon friendly pods of Bottlenose dolphins, typically groups of females and their young. Gin always stopped to gossip or ask about local attractions, but as young dolphins are even more annoying than human children, she never crashed with them long except when they were going her way for a fair distance. The males hung out mostly alone or in tiny groups, but occasionally she came upon a mixed pod. That was always loads of fun. Dolphin dudes were really cool, reminding her lots of James Dean, Marlon Brando (in "The Wild Ones") and even Jon Stewart. Strangely, the one or two bothersome ones reminded her of Jon Lovitz.
As a dolphin Gin remained celibate, mainly because she always had dreaded getting water up her nose during sex. But she often observed other dolphins together -- they did it right in the open and didn't seem to mind voyeurs. Ginny noted the courtship behavior of male dolphins. . .clinging along and "posing" for the gal dolphins as well as stroking, rubbing, nuzzling, mouthing, jaw clapping and yelping. . .was just like human males. Unlike men though, dude dolphins love loads of lengthy foreplay before doing it. Ultimately the courting couple get belly to belly, then his thingy comes out and slips into her. Again like human males, the act lasts only 10 to 30 seconds -- It reminded Gin of watching a pickpocket. But afterwards male dolphins don't succumb to immediate drooling sleep or scuff into the living room to watch baseball; rather they do it over and over and over, with breaks of several minutes in between (I must be part dolphin). If Ginny HAD joined in, it definitely would have been with the "Jon Stewart" types; thinking about them made her tail wiggle.
It was no time at all before Ginger was approaching Gibraltar; gateway to the romantic Mediterranean. Passing through the Straits, she took a leisurely tour of all the sights from Morocco to the Greek Islands. Gin even ventured thru the Bosporus to the Black Sea where she really enjoyed the caviar... while still in the sturgeon. Along the Romanian coast she had fun traumatizing tourists in the water, especially Hungarians, by pretending to be a shark. Although she strictly avoided hurting anyone, near a beach in Italy she bit this one guy on the ass because he reminded her of some Italian jerk she'd known.
Gin saved the best, the French Riviera, for last and thoroughly enjoyed Le Cote d'Azur -- at least the parts covered by water. In fact, one morning several days after arriving she became somewhat too enthusiastic in her enjoyment while playing in the surf. Momentarily forgetting she now was a dolphin, Ginny decided to leave the water to work on her tan and inadvertently beached herself. Disaster was avoided because once free of the water she returned to her human form; a result unexpected by Gin but predicted by Chaos Theory nonetheless (seems she really should've paid attention in High School Physics). Ginny, in her modesty, initially was embarrassed to find herself butt-naked on the sand but a glance told her it was a nude beach and she resolved for once to just enjoy the moment. Basking in the sun, surrounded by naked Frenchmen wearing sandals and black nylon socks and by au-natural Frenchwomen with hairy legs and armpits, Ginny reflected on dolphin life and concluded they really are more intelligent than humans and particularly smarter than the people she knows at Cornell. However since life in the ocean is so easy, dolphins and other cetaceans aren't obliged by difficulty and struggle to manifest this superiority thru invention -- basically, they're on a Club Med vacation their entire lives. As her philosophic reflection waned, Ginny spied a mackerel darting about beneath the waves a short way off. Feeling a bit peckish, she instinctively plunged back into the sea for a nice snack. Finding herself a dolphin once again and now aware that she could go back home and be human, she high-tailed it back to New York and her final year at Cornell.
It certainly wasn't as bad as that time she'd been a Barbie doll -- She'd hated that. Life as Barbie was pathetic; filled with phony people and plastic things. Plus Gin found that though Barbie is supposed to come with Ken; she really came best with GI Joe ...and most the time Ken was in the closet with The Incredible Hulk anyways. But the worst part was having to be friends with that psycho twat, Malibu Stacey. Yes, life as a dolphin was much better than being the bulimic bleached blond bimbo, Barbie. (However, Gin did agree with Barbie that Math class is tough.)
It all started when Ginger was at her favorite place, Coney Island, considering the looming Bar Exam -- where aspiring lawyers must pass a bar without going in. Not paying much attention, her adjectives got confused and she took a long walk on a short pier. With too little pier and too much walk, the immutable Laws of Physics decreed that she tumble into the sea and become a dolphin, kinda like "The Incredible Mr. Limpet." It happens all the time at Coney Island, which is part of the place's charm -- In fact it's a popular local spectator sport, like "Dwarf Tossing". . .only not as potentially demeaning to dwarfs.
Gin was happy to be a Bottlenose Dolphin. She was very gray... Dark gray at the top near the dorsal fin varying to light gray and almost white on her underside. Though on first blush this motif might be thought pedestrian, Gin felt the style was classic -- refined and dignified like gray formal Morning Dress (she always had a "thing" for top hat and spats). Such coloration, in addition to being fetching on Ginny, made her harder to see both from above and below when swimming, kinda like the combat paint scheme on a B-52.
Elongated upper and lower jaws formed her "rostrum" or "beak" (it did take a while for Ginny to come to grips with the thought "I have a Beak" in her internal dialog). Her real nose was the blowhole on top of her head. She rather liked having her nose up there, it wasn't in the way so much. Of course her face showed that warm "Flipper smile"... but then a radiant smile is characteristic of Gin in all her manifestations and possibly is the part I like best (not to imply that Ginny is composed of allocable "parts", like a chicken at the dinner table).
Dolphins don't sit around on couches or La-Z-Boys watching TV and "vegging-out." Gin was always swimming, a great exercise, and easily kept in shape without having to drop big bucks at some spa. She didn't have thighs, hips or waist to fret about ...And only weighed 460 pounds. Plus she found that dolphins weren't as hung-up on the images concocted by Madison Avenue and didn't bother at all with cosmetics. Ginny did miss her tumbling tresses, but then she had a neato dorsal fin instead, and as a dolphin she never had to have her tail hot-waxed. All in all she found her new lifestyle healthy and suspected she might even be smarter than before, probably from eating so much fish, a scientifically documented brain food.
Meals were a cinch; eat a nearby fish. No agonizing or arguing over cooking in, going out, or having delivery -- no disastrous home cooked meals with heaps of dirty dishes, no disappointing meals at supposed good restaurants, no gawking pizza delivery boys when answering the door ...Plus she'd had a particular taste for raw fish ever since the night little 4-year-old Ginny ate all the guppies in her father's aquarium while he was at the Broadway premier of "Miss Saigon."
Dressing was a breeze, too. She just went around bare-assed all day long. Ginny didn't miss Prada or Gucci or Manolo. Actually the only thing she did miss was Fendi... that and bubble baths.
As for entertainment... In their aquatic domain dolphins are like 6 year-old boys on Christmas that play all day in the cardboard box while a big expensive gizmo it contained sits neglected in a corner. There was no great quest for entertainment -- it was everywhere; readily assessable. No need for theaters or TV's... If Gin wanted to see "The Little Mermaid", she just swam over and said "Hi." And she didn't need nightclubs, she could dance with her pals on any wave.
All this with no expenses... Any dolphin in the sea is richer than Bill Gates, who would be way over his head in the ocean.
After acclimating to the ways of cetaceans and the sea, Ginny (with time on her flippers) decided to embark on improving travel and set out for the Mediterranean tour she long had craved.
As she blithely pursued her perambulation, Gin frequently came upon friendly pods of Bottlenose dolphins, typically groups of females and their young. Gin always stopped to gossip or ask about local attractions, but as young dolphins are even more annoying than human children, she never crashed with them long except when they were going her way for a fair distance. The males hung out mostly alone or in tiny groups, but occasionally she came upon a mixed pod. That was always loads of fun. Dolphin dudes were really cool, reminding her lots of James Dean, Marlon Brando (in "The Wild Ones") and even Jon Stewart. Strangely, the one or two bothersome ones reminded her of Jon Lovitz.
As a dolphin Gin remained celibate, mainly because she always had dreaded getting water up her nose during sex. But she often observed other dolphins together -- they did it right in the open and didn't seem to mind voyeurs. Ginny noted the courtship behavior of male dolphins. . .clinging along and "posing" for the gal dolphins as well as stroking, rubbing, nuzzling, mouthing, jaw clapping and yelping. . .was just like human males. Unlike men though, dude dolphins love loads of lengthy foreplay before doing it. Ultimately the courting couple get belly to belly, then his thingy comes out and slips into her. Again like human males, the act lasts only 10 to 30 seconds -- It reminded Gin of watching a pickpocket. But afterwards male dolphins don't succumb to immediate drooling sleep or scuff into the living room to watch baseball; rather they do it over and over and over, with breaks of several minutes in between (I must be part dolphin). If Ginny HAD joined in, it definitely would have been with the "Jon Stewart" types; thinking about them made her tail wiggle.
It was no time at all before Ginger was approaching Gibraltar; gateway to the romantic Mediterranean. Passing through the Straits, she took a leisurely tour of all the sights from Morocco to the Greek Islands. Gin even ventured thru the Bosporus to the Black Sea where she really enjoyed the caviar... while still in the sturgeon. Along the Romanian coast she had fun traumatizing tourists in the water, especially Hungarians, by pretending to be a shark. Although she strictly avoided hurting anyone, near a beach in Italy she bit this one guy on the ass because he reminded her of some Italian jerk she'd known.
Gin saved the best, the French Riviera, for last and thoroughly enjoyed Le Cote d'Azur -- at least the parts covered by water. In fact, one morning several days after arriving she became somewhat too enthusiastic in her enjoyment while playing in the surf. Momentarily forgetting she now was a dolphin, Ginny decided to leave the water to work on her tan and inadvertently beached herself. Disaster was avoided because once free of the water she returned to her human form; a result unexpected by Gin but predicted by Chaos Theory nonetheless (seems she really should've paid attention in High School Physics). Ginny, in her modesty, initially was embarrassed to find herself butt-naked on the sand but a glance told her it was a nude beach and she resolved for once to just enjoy the moment. Basking in the sun, surrounded by naked Frenchmen wearing sandals and black nylon socks and by au-natural Frenchwomen with hairy legs and armpits, Ginny reflected on dolphin life and concluded they really are more intelligent than humans and particularly smarter than the people she knows at Cornell. However since life in the ocean is so easy, dolphins and other cetaceans aren't obliged by difficulty and struggle to manifest this superiority thru invention -- basically, they're on a Club Med vacation their entire lives. As her philosophic reflection waned, Ginny spied a mackerel darting about beneath the waves a short way off. Feeling a bit peckish, she instinctively plunged back into the sea for a nice snack. Finding herself a dolphin once again and now aware that she could go back home and be human, she high-tailed it back to New York and her final year at Cornell.
To Be Continued
