In Love With Gaston?

For those unfamiliar, this is cosplay of Gaston:



In the classic Disney movie, “Beauty and the Beast”, Gaston was the antagonist. He was also a narcissist, misogynist, and quite evil in the end. He was handsome on the outside, but ugly on the inside. (The opposite of the Beast).

Here’s the famous song that best shows Gaston:

Then there are the Bimbettes, three girls who are his most ardent fans:


I loved this movie as a kid, but I never thought I’d meet people who acted this way.

For the sake of the story, I’ll call the woman, “Bimbi” (short for Bimbette) and the man will be “Gaston”.  

Years ago, I arrived in South Korea to teach English where I met Bimbi. After work, everyone went for BBQ, and I ended up seated across from Bimbi who turned out to love soju.

After downing half a bottle, she struggled to stay on her stool. She became erratic and mopey. Through a stream of tears, she slurred, “You see, men… can’t handle women like me.”

On the way home, she vomited on one of our co-workers shoes.

This was just a sign of what was to come.

She was a terrible co-worker, teacher, and even worse to those foolish enough to call her friend.

Whenever, our classes got called to the auditorium, my class always got seated behind Bimbi’s. We were supposed to stay with our classes. I stayed with mine. Bimbi just disappeared.

This meant I had to discipline both her and my class. Her class misbehaved constantly and encouraged my students to join in.  Needless to say, I started to despise Bimbi. She never did her job. Everyone always had to pick up the slack. Even worse, she would act like their “work” was hers and take credit for it.

Bimbi took blame for nothing.

Even though she showed up to work hungover half the time, the management did not fire her. During school inspections, they gave her class a wide berth. It was a zoo in there.

Sometimes we had special lessons that involved us teaching in other teacher’s classes. This meant that every two weeks I taught Bimbi’s class for one hour. The first time I entered the floor was sticky. When I asked the students why, they said Bimbi had spilled her soda there.

Her soda.

She didn’t even clean it up. She tossed a few tissues on it and then ignored it.

I’d learn later this wasn’t the first time. The janitors hated cleaning her room.  There’d always be gum stuck under the student’s desk, and her desk. There’d be bits of food on the floor, and sticky messes that were hard to get rid of.

I’d spend the first 15 minutes disciplining her class, which would leave me the rest of the time to rush through a lesson designed to take up the whole hour. One time, Bimbi entered my lesson halfway through to pick up a jump drive she had forgotten, and paused in surprise, blurting out, “Wow, how’d you get them to sit down?”

*eye twitch*

I asked her, “if you’re here, who’s watching your class?”

That day she was teaching the class of 10-12 year olds.

“Oh,” she laughed, waving a hand, “They’re fine. I left a Beyonce video playing.”

She was lucky no one got hurt.

Her philosophy on teaching was, as she put it, “I don’t really believe a teacher’s job is to teach, anymore than a student’s job is to learn. What I really hope is that they think I’m fun and cool. I want to be remembered as that ‘hip teacher’ that they could fist-bump.”

Nothing she did while I worked there got her fired. Not even the infamous Award Ceremony Disaster.

During the graduation ceremony, we are supposed to lead our students onto the stage  where the Principal hands each one their graduation certificate and we, the teacher, step in for a pose with the student who is photographed proudly holding their certificate. Often the parents sit in at these events. They are very formal.

Well, there was a fifteen minute break before Bimbi’s class was called. When the break was over, Bimbi was nowhere to be found. Her class was called, but she wasn’t there.

Her students stood up in confusion, looking around for their teachers. The principal, a stocky Korean man in his late fifties, started to turn red-faced with anger. Finally, a fast-thinking teacher from across the aisle jumped up and led Bimbi’s class to the stage and did her role.

To this day, no one knows where Bimbi went. She sneaked in thirty minutes later, well after her class had returned to their seats. The management was furious. Although she got yelled at in the office, they did not fire her. I guess they couldn’t find a replacement.

This was on top of the Gaston Ordeal.

Gaston came into our school like the wind. The mere sight of him set all the females’ hearts a fluttering. He looked a lot like the Gaston from the movie — cleft chin, broad chest, and cut features.

And he had a lot of the guy’s personality trait and way of thinking to boot.

I’d only realize that later. My first thought at seeing him was, “My, what a guy…!”

No one fell harder than Bimbi. She zeroed in on him, and viciously chased the other women away. He was hers, she had decided.

From the moment she saw him, she inserted  herself into his life whenever she could. She used any reason she could to let bend over in front of him — yes, she did the infamous “Oops, I dropped my pen.”  Her hands were all over him.

Gaston seemed repulsed by Bimbi.

I witnessed it one time. Without asking, Bimbi reached up to straighten his collar, making her sure to press up against his rear as much as she could. It happened so fast it took him a moment to realize what was happening. His eyebrows shot up, then a look of total revulsion washed over him. He got away from her.

Where we all saw a shudder, Bimbi saw a “shiver of excitement”.  People tried to tell her as politely as they could, “he’s not into you”. Bimbi shot them down, saying, “he’s just playing hard to get. He’ll come around. Men don’t mean ‘no’ the way women do.”

No matter how many times he rejected her, she would laugh it off and insist, “he’s shy. I’ll make him fall for me.”

The breaking point came at a party. Bimbi got there early, and started downing shots of vodka. She kept asking one of Gaston’s friends when Gaston would arrive. Finally, Gaston arrived. Before Bimbi could sit with him, he wedged himself on a crowded couch.

Not to be deterred, Bimbi hovered beside him, always watching.  Later, he got up to get some food. He got distracted by conversation when suddenly Bimbi came up beside him and started thrusting her crotch against his side, shouting, “I’m so drunk and horny!”

In front of all her co-workers she humped Gaston.

Our jaws dropped. Gaston stood there, frozen in shock, and turned pale with anger. He  quickly masked it, and laughed, “Someone’s had too much to drink.” He tried to push her off, but she moaned and rubbed hard.

“C’mon,” she said in a sultry voice. “You like it.”

Finally, one of his buddies pulled her off and, Gaston left with a strained smile.

That seemed to be the moment Gaston decided he’d use her “crush” to his advantage and exact revenge.

From then on, when he and his mates went drinking, they stopped hiding it from Bimbi. They invited her. She happily joined, and Gaston encouraged her to buy them a round of drinks. She did so, and the next and their snacks. They milked her for free stuff.

He encouraged her to prank her “friends” and co-workers by secretly feeding them dog food. Only after they’d all taken a bite did she reveal that her chili had not been made with “beef”.

I wasn’t at that party, but I heard some people threw up. At work, I noticed a very tense atmosphere began to form as Bimbi grew isolated from her co-workers.  And Gaston encouraged it on, daring her to do wilder things.

Her reputation spiraled.

Gaston would laugh about it to his mates. They couldn’t believe what Bimbi would do for Gaston.

Eventually, Gaston decided to quit and moved back to his native country.

Bimbi wept and wailed at his goodbye party, begging him to keep in touch with her. She promised to visit him. He asked her not to.  She insisted she would. (I don’t know if she ever did. I left soon after).

After he left, Bimbi improved (not as teacher). Her former friends started to forgive her now that the influence of Gaston had left. Bimbi continued to pine about him, wonder if he missed her.

Meanwhile, he’d post pictures of himself on Australian beaches with bikini-clad women. Whenever it was pointed out to Bimbi that he seemed to be moving on just fine, she would laugh and sneer, “Those women are bimbos. He doesn’t like sluts. Easy girls with no self-respect. They’ll never have what he and I do.”

We could only stare, and pity her.

Bimbi lived a world separate from reality.

A fantasy of her own making.

Some people really are like cartoon characters.









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When I was in my twenties, I moved to Japan and met a man there. We embarked on our adventure through life and love. I have lived with him in Japan ever since. We want to start a family, but that is proving difficult. I struggle with infertility. We almost had a child, but that ended in tragedy. Now we enjoy each day and hope that one day we'll hear the pitter-patter of little feet and the bubbly laughter of a child. In the meantime, I enjoy writing, love, studying, traveling, and working. These posts are my thoughts and stories of my life here.

6 thoughts on “In Love With Gaston?”

    1. Well, she often bragged about her family and how close she was to her sister, but I wonder if she was just telling a fantasy of how she wished her childhood had been.

      I think she must have been aware on some level, but didn’t care because she believed he would like her for it.

      Liked by 1 person

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