Gina Gregarious

Gina Gregarious hits the dance floor the moment she steps through the door.
Her heels spark like her eyes when she sees a friend.

And she bloody loves this song.

Gina Gregarious loves the loner, the drunk, the joker, the serious and sober, the intense and the insane.
She spreads her sky-coloured cloak over every head, to protect them from the rain and see them home safe.

Gina Gregarious sees a friend everywhere, in every pub, at every table, on every dance floor.
Especially if they haven’t met yet.

And she bloody loves this song.

Gina Gregarious lets out a six-foot-four laugh from a five-foot-three body.
She communicates joy in crowded places through skin-to-skin elbow-bumping osmosis and mingled sweat hugs.
In noisy clubs she hears through the magnets in her smile.

Gina Gregarious drags you up to dance, and you can’t refuse because you simply don’t want to.
Her bouncing curls wave like flags on a lighthouse: “There’s danger here, but you’re safe with me.”

And she bloody loves this song.

Gina Gregarious calls herself a twat when others admire, absorbs the Brownian motion of the pub’s patrons and glass collectors.
She is fuelled by airborne pheromones and the crush of the mosh pit.

We adore you, Gina Gregarious.
Seriously, how could we not?
We’re just struggling to keep up with your pace.
And anyway,

We bloody love this song.

 

August 2025

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