It kem as no surprise that ‘bespoke’ has been nemt this year’s Drawda Dictionary Wuurdada Yeeor. Bespoke overkem mildish competition from ‘fleadh’, however the final result was never seriously in doubt.
The word ‘bespoke’ entered the local lexicon as media outlets rushed to http://www.thesauras.com to find a word to describe a pipe that needed to be custom made to specific requirements after a buurst pipe in Staleen caused widespread thuurst. Sections of the town were forced to ‘go round duurty’.
Initially confusion reigned. Irish Water officials had only ever heard the word bespoke used in conjunction with dress suits and assumed engineers had ordered a suit for the burst pipe. Several designs and materials were tried (wool, linen, Teflon, polyester) but none seemed to suit the pipe. It was only when someone posted a picture of Irish Water workers debating whether to close both buttons of the highly pressurised pipe’s blazer or just the top one that the error was discovered. By then, the town had been without water for three days.
Just like the twerking fad a few years ago, the new infatuation didn’t confine itself to a youthful demographic. It quickly infected all ages, discriminating against neither age, sex or profession. Suddenly everything was bespoke. Cafes and bakeries erased the word ‘aaatisan’ from their advertising black boards and writ in bespoke. Pub conversations were literally bored senseless with the word. You couldn’t walk from one enda the baa tit’uther without overhearing nonsense like… “It’s one of them bespoke pipes they need out in Staleen Eileen…We got these deadly little bespoke coasters in Italy…Excuse me ladies, I need to go and clean out me bespoke pipes…”
Doctors began to get patients with the peculiar ailment of the Bespoke Ear Ache. The condition occurs when patients aural capabilities are overwhelmed by a sudden and brutal overexposure to a previously unknown word. As the brain searches in vain for previous encounters with the new word, the inner ear shuts off access to the eardrum resulting in the build-up and inevitable bottle neck waiting to access the mind via the ears. The resulting brain freeze can paralyse the sufferer for hours before they recover. However, once the bottle neck is cleared, the sufferer can only rid himself of this overexposure by orally expelling the new word. The resulting contagion can paralyse a town for weeks, as was the case in Drawda. The Borough Council suggested giving out free face masks to contain the spread of the virus by muffling the sound of the word like they did when people started saying that Dundalk were getting everything. But they’re even more powerless now than they were then…
Inevitably locals began using the word incorrectly, much like the word pedestrianisation is used in conjunction with West Street when in fact the town’s main thoroughfare is bestrode with a road, resplendent with bus stops.
Some locals rallied against the new word by logically deconstructing it. “A’ve hehdada wuurd ‘be’ before so A’have, and A’ve hehdada wuurd ‘spoke’ so A’have. Buhputtin the twoadum tigeddur is jus nonsense. It’s a made up wuurd. A’ll not be foolt.”
Doctors likened the phenomenon to a viral infection and said it would ‘just run its course and that’ll be €75 please’. Locals however, soon discovered that a bespoke boot up the hole miraculously cured sufferers.
A worthy winner.