Everyday Mancism

I’ve just been through an online checkout using one of those postcode checkers. You know the one where you enter your postcode and it automatically fills in your address. I put mine in and it returned:

house number street

MANCHESTER

postcode

It shouldn’t wind me up these days, and it hasn’t really, it’s more of a nark or a niggle. And it’s not particularly because I live in Salford and the system has disregarded Salford (though it is mainly).

The name of the street I live on is not unique in these parts. It’s not quite Station Road or Church Street, but it’s not far off that level of ubiquity. It’s happened several times where my parcels have rocked up to a different coloured door to my house number and street on the other side of town. I’ve even had summonses for a felon who must have lived in my house number and street on the another other side of town (honest, m’lud).

To stop this happening I need:

house number street

town

SALFORD

postcode

Yes, I call Manchester ‘town’. Yes, it’s complicated. Yes, I want my bread buttered so I can eat it too. But let’s not brush aside a city of a quarter-million people. Think of the posties.