Janemares
There are many words and expressions that are just too stupid and difficult to know to justify existing; like buy idebenoneand ‘big as a cow!’ (When the correct term would be something like ‘big as a semi-detached house, if not somewhat bigger!’) Then there are those words so pointless and inept, yet so clever. One of them is equivalent. If you’re looking for a word to mean anything but what it means, then this sick puppy is the Holy Grail.
Equivalent is supposed to mean ‘something similar and equally as good’. Except I have never, ever been given an equivalent that was just as good. My equivalents have ranged from poor to half-decent, but never as good. Take my hair-cut last week, for example. Alarm bells started to ring when the
Sorta: it gave the game away.
I arrived at my appointment expecting the equivalent, after stressing for a few hours that equivalent is never that, and being told that I was just being a silly girl and should drop it. I sat in the sofa in the corner and awaited Jane. When she arrived I was impressed. She had that look about her that said I know fashion. I am fashion! I felt my fears diminish, and I sat down.
Ten minutes in to my cut I was beginning to feel afraid again. The phone kept going and Jane would answer it while cutting my hair without the aid of her vision. I wouldn’t even trust Nicky Clarke to do this, so to say I didn’t trust Jane would be an understatement.
Suffice to say I have not seen Jane again. Only in my nightmares.
Comments are closed!