I have of late noticed a space in my life, a sad and empty void nagging away at the back of my mind. This morning I finally identified it for what it is: I am, for the first time in several years, lacking a Nemesis.
Over the years it's inevitable that one develops rivalries with members of the same (or occasionally the opposite) sex. Generally you share at least the fringes of the same social and professional circles, just enough that you run into each other every couple of months. You probably didn't get on all that well to begin with, although you could never quite put your finger on why.
The Nemesis relationship itself can be triggered by anything from the most trivial of events to the most unforgivable. Perhaps you overlapped one too many boyfriends for comfort; perhaps she married your ex-lover; perhaps she became NBF* to your OBF** or perhaps it's something as ostensibly insignificant as sharing too much history - perhaps she can, unforgivably, remember you when you had hair the size of Pluto, pock marked skin and braces. It may not even be a specific event: maybe she's just your polar opposite - a fresh-bread-baking, skipping-through-the-meadows, Brownie-pack-leading sprite whose giggling, child-like existence puts your hackles up to the ceiling.
Either way, she's Not Your Kind of People, and your occasional run-ins and frosty encounters have delighted and horrified bystanders in equal parts for the last few years. But what to do when the relationship peters out, when she no longer excites that spark of irritation, and when - horror of horrors - you actually find yourself getting on quite well? Oh, the emptiness! The sense of loss!
But fear not. For those who, like me, are currently lacking a suitable candidate for their own Nemesis Programme, I have developed a brief guide to identifying a new arch-rival - because we all need a bit of (un)healthy competition in our lives.
The Nemesis Programme
- Your chosen candidate should be pretty, but not too pretty - enough to stop you from eating that fifth slice of chocolate cake, but not so much that you have any real fear of being outclassed by her unexpected arrival at a mutual friend's birthday bash.
- She should be newsworthy (and I don't mean tabloid headlines). A good Nemesis will provide a source of gossip and conversation for you and your friends for months or even years to come. Oh my god, did you hear what she did? Did you see what she wore? Can you believe what she's like? (A Nemesis who flies discreetly below the radar is never going to generate any real satisfaction.)
- She should, like Mary Poppins, be no more than practically perfect. If you can't find a loophole through which your scorn can slip you're just setting yourself up for a losing battle and a bad self esteem trip. For example: Cameron Diaz would be a Bad Choice.
- Your mutual acquaintances should be arranged on both sides of the argument. You can't pick someone who no-one has time for; where's the challenge in that? Where's the fun? Ideally you want about a 40/60 split - enough people on your side that you can have a good bitchfest, but enough on hers that you can work up a decent head of steam over the number of people who Just Don't See What She's Really Like.
- It has to be mutual. If she secretly wants to be your friend then she's not really a Nemesis and you're just throwing rocks into an open window. But if you're fairly sure she's thinking the same about you, you could be onto a winner.
- Know your Nemesis. If she's got a way with barbed compliments and you have a five-minute delay on your witty comebacks, you'll need plenty of pre-preparation time. Equally, if she has a group of large and hairy devoted male friends, make sure you have a really good innocent expression for when they come to have A Quiet Word with you.
- Never forget: dealing with your Nemesis does not exempt you from the Rules of Life. Slanging matches are not the picture of grace; always be polite. Any woman worth her salt can make her opinion on someone perfectly clear while never straying from the most blameless of conversation. (Although, to be fair, practise makes perfect on this one.)
Ah, the good old days. I have my eye out for a replacement, you know... let me know if you spot anyone suitable.
*New Best Friend
**Old Best Friend
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