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Taking the car to the garage
*they're not EVERY DAY though, are they? fucking phrases.
it's great, they just assume you're a real man
This makes it 1000 times more terrifying.
Might get my hair cut beforehand.
like, transferring money:
WHAT IF I GOT ONE DIGIT WRONG????
taking cash out:
OH SHIT I GOT £300 INSTEAD OF £30
especially if it is an ancient as fuck and thus slow machine, which means when you go to retry the 'cash no receipt' button which is bottom right and it changes to the max amount milliseconds before you hit it.
This happened to me when I was in Budapest for 6 fucking hours and I took out 300,000 forints which is about 1000 euros worth.
For some reason, the fear of going in there, always without a clue what I want (want to just say: 'just give me a haircut, and don't make it look silly') gives me the chills.
Once we're all understood and barber person is cutting my hair (without ANY small talk) I'm happy as anything.
as the bleak reality comes crashing in.
talking to me on the train about norwich again
been trying to catch his carer so i can have a quick word with her but i never see her anymore, don't really know how to go about it
WHAT IF I ACCIDENTALLY PUT MY WALLET IN THE ENVELOPE???
It was only for £12 or so, so waiting around for the postie to turn up wasn't deemed worthwhile.
Thought it might possibly end up getting paid in eventually, by way of some vaguely imagined chain of events. But no.
Merging in roads
people around me being ill
the ones that involve basic human interaction anyway like using a telephone. Taking a car to the garage however has been tainted by the many times I receive a call telling me it will be £500 with a couple of days delay for parts. Such a relief when they tell me it is AOK.
It's usually my ex
Assume they're dead.
went to visit a friend at her house, she was 5 minutes late and i assumed she had either been mugged or collapsed
Took the day off for my uncle's funeral.
that everyone you care for is dead.
Also, you owe them money.
I don't answer them
but I've not noticed anyone is dead yet
the body count goes up.
Still yet to pluck up the courage to do it. It just seems so BORING and never-ending...and for what? To stop my manager from telling me to iron my shirts.
Actually, this isn't a fear thing; I just can't be arsed.
don't think we even own an ironing board... or an iron
`Geoff... can we have a quick chat please?`
Absolutely line it every single time.
that deep-seated queasy feeling where you're convinced you've forgotten something important, all the way to the airport / train station / wherever. Then you mention it to someone and they're like "well you've got your wallet/phone/passport, what else could be so important" and it doesn't help AT ALL.
WHAT IF I NEED A PISS??
Driving behind trucks / pick ups with scaffolding poles as part of their load, scares the shit out of me as I'm terrified the vehicle ahead of them will stop suddenly causing them to brake just as suddenly and the scaffolding poles will then come flying through my windscreen and kill me, think i saw this happen in a horror movie maybe one of the Final Destination films and it's weirded me out ever since.
well I'm never driving again
Surely? So you're fine. On the other hand... My car was once twatted on the headlight by a massive block of wood that came flying off the back of a lorry from outta nowhere. Would've been purdy nasty if it had arced into the windscreen instead.