We all need identifiers. Like the man who will forever be known as ‘The Dick’ because he dumped your best friend when you were 23 and you will always hate him on point of principle, even though she was a maniac (she’s better now) and he basically had no choice. Here are some of ours, which are maybe some of yours…
The Nice Man
Our nice man is a mechanic – something wrong with the car? Take it to the Nice Man. The Nice Man will fix it. We’re not even sure he is really nice. He just fixed the car quickly for not much money once and for that we will always be pathetically grateful. Every Midult has a Nice Man or Nice Woman who once mended something and will forever be nice. They may be called The Angel or The Wizard but they make things better and you will cry when they die. Unless you die first.
This in Midult HQ is not a terrible tale of harassment or a disgusting sexual encounter, but rather two songs* that no one is allowed to sing out loud because they will wedge themselves in our brains.
The Everything Shop
Doesn’t everyone have one of those? It’s alive to the neighbourhood needs: fuses, dark chocolate digestives and more plastic receptacles than anyone will ever want but are incredibly grateful to see stacked outside. JUST IN CASE. Need a widgety thing? You know where to go. It is never closed. They’ve even let you go to the loo there once when you were walking back late from the tube/pub and ever so slightly weeing.
The Bread Lady
She runs the bakery. She makes the bread of heaven. She runs out all the time. The bread lady is a bitch. She’s not a lady. Everyone says so. But her loaves are AMAZING. So we continue buying the bread and braving the daggers.
You worked with her once. Enough said.
Everyone has this couple in their life: the ones who make you gird your livers, lock up all the lighter fluid and book a day off because you are going to have a case of the hangover horrors to be sure.
Sorry to all you cyclists (not sorry really) but if we use the cyclist emoji it can only mean one thing. CUNT. OK that looked a bit aggressive. Cunt. Better.
That person you really, really, really, really don’t ever want to see. You don’t hate them. They’ve never hurt you. You just really, really, really don’t ever want to bump into them. Its like an allergy.
The dress you are never too fat or too mad for. God bless it.
*Radio Ga Ga or R Kelly’s Ignition. AAAAGGHH.