Nuneaton isn’t a small town. It’s actually a very large town! Chatting to a guy on a train recently, he mentioned that he’d never been to Nuneaton, but that it didn’t seem to matter where you were, there was usually a road sign mentioning it. Jasper Carrot has regularly abused Nuneaton in his stand up routines, along with many other comedians, so you would assume that in order for it to be mentioned, never mind ridiculed, it would have to be a pretty large town, probably with a wide and diverse multicultural population. Which it kind of is...but then if you speak to the neighbouring towns and cities such as Coventry, Tamworth, and Hinckley, they’ll all call Nuneaton the same thing.
Treacle Town.
The reason for this is the stereotypical view that people from Nuneaton are thick and slow. The thing with stereotypes is that they’re usually drawn from a number of people’s opinions of a shared encounter or view. Whilst I wouldn’t say that this stereotype is justified, the insinuation is, that the residents of this delightful mining town, are slow largely due to the high levels of inbreeding within the area. Very funny no? Chortle Chortle (note the sarcasm). Nuneaton’s 70’700 (ish) strong population probably disproves this theory somewhat, unless you’re happy to assume that a few families have been at it like freaking rabbits over the last few decades.
Despite its large town status however, Nuneaton has a small town mentality. It seems as though literally everyone knows everyone else’s business. When my seventeen year old cousin goes out and gets drunk, falls off her six inch stilettos and flashes the world her arse, I am guaranteed to know about it within approximately twelve hours. (Yes Hatty, don’t think I haven’t heard about your escapades missy!) Likewise, when I go out, get utterly gazeeboed and end up snogging some random, it’s pretty much a given that friends who up until four minutes and forty-five seconds ago had been enjoying a drink in a different pub/club, half a mile down the road, will descend to drag me away and prevent the humiliation of me discovering in my morning-after-the-night-before state that I actually copped off with the elephant man.
You know exactly what’s going on in everyone’s love life, home life and work life, and the jungle drums beat loud and furiously whenever there is gossip to be shared. Some people love this. Me...I’d never really let it concern me. My mum is Nuneaton born and bred, and I have always been used to walking through the town on a Saturday and bumping into people who knew me because of her. I moved here when I was eleven, so regularly bump into people I was at school or college with. It’s only now, that it begins to bother me. Every time I go out now, I spend the evenings amongst friends and acquaintances, which is great...but if you’re already friends with everyone, how are you ever going to meet someone who could be more than a friend?
The man-pool hasn’t been diluted by relatives, as our neighbouring towns would like to insinuate, it’s been diluted by friends!...or the brother of a friend...or the cousin of a friend...or the ex boyfriend of friend (and thus the golden friendship rule states you NEVER go there) or even just the random guy who has carnal knowledge of the friend of a friend, which means you can’t go there because it will make your friends relationship with her friend a little tense!!!
What I wouldn’t give to live in a large city, where the population is mixed with so many millions of people that no’one knows me, or knows anyone I know. Maybe then the odds of finding Mr Right won’t be completely stacked against me!! Failing that of course, I could always move abroad... maybe a wider man-pool and a sunkissed tan will help my spinster status??? Best start packing....Oz, here I come!
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