“It’s called Dromophobia and it’s perfectly legitimate!”

“Now what precisely is that, psycho?”

“I’m not a psycho, and it’s the fear of crossing the street on foot.”

“Oh God, I see we’re back to that again…”

We’re at the intersection and my boyfriend has once again decided to ‘cure’ me of my ‘weirdness’. Why he persists, I have no idea. Now he’s refusing to hold my hand, placidly encouraging me to be a ‘big girl’. Why is it that when a man says that, it sends me into a near-homicidal rage? I proceed to throw a restrained tantrum – through clenched teeth, I unleash my ire. Defeated, or perhaps tired of standing at the intersection, he grabs hold of my hand and we cross.

From the time man first slid out of that primordial slime, phobias have existed. Look around. See that oscillating fan? See that cute little pig-in-a-blanket waiting to be popped in a hungry mouth? I guarantee that someone, somewhere is afraid of them. Recounting the incident at work, my coworker-friends giggle unrestrained – clearly siding with my boyfriend. Really now?

My eyebrows ascend a few millimeters and my lips assume their sardonic pose.

“So you guys aren’t afraid of anything?”

A thoughtful pause follows, then a gaggle of voices chorus “no” with varying degrees of conviction. I wait. A few seconds elapse and I watch as reality gives each a resounding slap in the face. Thanks Reality!  Pam’s eyes fly open wide, her lips curl downwards and …

“I’m afraid of new born kittens, eeeww. They make my skin crawl.” She wiggles uncomfortably in her chair, examining herself for some invisible parasite, shoulders gyrating and neck tucked in. She made such a comic picture, we all start laughing as the confessions roll in. Clowns – “coulrophobia”, I eloquently inform, slime – “blennophobia”, dogs – “cynophobia, I have that one too”. “Omphalophobia? Really? You do know you have one, don’t you?” I didn’t know the word to explain June’s phobia, so if anyone knows the word for “afraid of those fox stoles with the faces that old women wear around their necks”, please let us all know!

My point duly made, I went overboard on the smugness – poked merciless fun at those boyfriend-supporters (traitors!). But sitting there laughing and having a great time with my friends made me remember something I had learned long ago but had since forgotten. If you can remember it, it will serve you well too. Stay away from “normal” people – there is something wrong with them…

Clown Pic Source:



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