Today’s treat is from an author who has already been published by us so do check out her back catalogue. We thought this piece would speak to many of us. That niggle that you know is unreasonable but by gum you can’t let it go. Amusing but very well observed. We give you In a Word – enjoy
***
In a Word by Karen Uttien
This morning, I watched a woman walk towards me. By the time she reached me, I had assessed her in one word. Privileged.
Gold Gucci sandals complimented the little black dress, swaying elegantly just above her knee. Large fashionable sunglasses accentuated glossy red lips. Long dark hair rolled playfully down her back. Golden sun-bronzed skin – a recent trip on a private yacht no doubt.
As she walked past, Chanel No. 5 overwhelmed me. Consuming me all the way home. So much so, by the time I got there, I had reassessed the woman entirely.
Her hair, although beautiful, was rather too long. Tired. Her skin was over-baked. Withering. Her pouty lips, somewhat sulky. And the sunglasses – I suspected were masking a congregation.
Yes. This once highly desired woman, was hanging on for dear life. In a word. Madonna.
Now, you realise this assessment is probably not true. No. But it does tell a truth; no one knows how others see you. Which brings me to this little story …
*
It was my friend’s 40th birthday. A best friend. Let’s call her Jenny.
There was me and Jenny. Her other three best friends, and our partners. So, 10 of us.
Jenny’s a bit flash. And very generous. A superb combination.
She hired a room on the top floor in a very fancy restaurant.
We were greeted by Don Perignon and sculptured canapes. Then glided to our seats. Chairs pulled out. Napkins draped. Swarovski filled with sparkling from the Nile itself.
There were somewhere between six and way-too-many delectable courses, each paired with our precious chef’s personally selected wines.
The sheer privilege, my new dress, the altitude, and Don – all attributed equally to my giddy happiness. The entire room now reflecting nothing less than a woozy beehive overflowing with honey.
Then, just as I thought I might explode with glee, came the speech.
‘… I have thought of one word to describe each of you,’ Jenny said, pointing. ‘You. And you. And you! What each of you are to me. My. Dear. Dear. Friends.’
She began on her right.
Inspiring. Loyal. Thoughtful. Fun. Adventurous …
Now – as I said earlier – I know one can’t see how others see you but, when Jenny and I exchange our fond twenty-five-year friendship smile, I was not expecting –
‘Dependable!’ I yelped.
The night went on and my volatile happiness wafted into a small headache.
We said our good-byes and clambered into a taxi.
As we drove along the highway, a giant billboard illuminated the skyline shouting … DEPENDABLE DRYCLEANERS!! I nodded sadly, and fell asleep.
*
That was nearly ten years ago. I still bring it up. Still throw it out to new audiences for discussion. Most agree it is an excellent trait … on a resume. And everyone most certainly would use a dependable drycleaner.
I have brought it up with Jenny. Several times. She stands by it. I should let it go, but …
The last time I felt so aggrieved – I was six. We were to perform Hans Christian Anderson’s “The Swineherd” for our end-of-year panto and, without doubt, I would be the princess.
‘But princesses don’t wear pink jumpsuits and curly tails,’ I explained to stupid Mrs Elliot.
Karen Uttien
literally stories 