Karen’s away, and because I still haven’t learned to fear sending random emails late on a Thursday afternoon, I’ve been lumbered volunteered to be the barman today.
Drinks orders can be placed in the comments box below, and your theme today is (logically) Phobias.
Personally, I’m terrified of sobriety, so the pint of 75:25 ratio Black Russian is mine…
August 27, 2004
Drinkies
One might be forgiven for thinking metrophobia is the fear of underground rail networks, but it is in fact the fear of poetry. One sometimes wonders when perusing lists of phobias whether some one has to have suffered from a given fear in order for a name to be coined for it, or is one at liberty to invent, say, birophobia for the purely imagined fear of pens?
Anyway, mine’s a legitmate fear: lyssophobia – the fear of bats in one’s belfry. Mine’s also a pint, which I’m assured will keep madness at bay.
It works like homeopathy. Small doses of alcohol-induced insanity will, in the long run, prevent me either from going mad, or from noticing when it happens.
Probably the latter.
Bark.
Can I have a large mug of extremely scared tea, please?
I’m off to the Reading festival today, and I’m terrified that there won’t be any taxis around at silly o’clock tomorrow morning to take me to a cosy bed.
My order is diluted Guinness in a plastic glass. Terrifying.
Hello, I’m Karen, not really Pete typing this on my behalf. I’d like warm glass of Hungarian wine.
And shoes! Ooooh, I love shoes lots!
To try and overcome my fear of chavs, I’d like a Bacardi Breezer. With a straw.
Please.
I’ve written about my fears before so I won’t go into them again. I will say that when I was taking the recycling out last night, the huge house spider that was hiding amongst all the paper did make me jump a bit.
I’ll have a pint of Bishop’s Finger, because if there’s something in the world worth having a phobia about then that’s got to be it.
there are so many phobias, who knew? My favourite;
“Pogonophobia- Fear of beards.”
Shudder.
A vodka and tonic please, and Happy Friday.
Apart from my ‘regular’ medical condition, I suffer from iceophobia, which is a rational fear of barmen adding ice to my Smirnoff Blue despite the fact that I’ve pointedly asked them to not add ice (or lemon, or any other distraction) but they insist.
So I insist on decanting the minibergs onto the bar. (Now you know who’s responsible for leaving sticky, wet pools for your elbows to absorb).
Sorry and thankyou, in equal measures. That’s one part ….
Anatidaephobia is mine.
Like water off a ducks back I
Adrian I can manage that for you if you protect me from the spiders. Well if I am going to be round a pool in a very skimpy (black) thong I wold love a cold sangria with just the right amount of ice and please do NOT put the cucumber in it. Otherwise Adrian wont just have toprotect me from spiders he might actually have to give me mouth to mouth ;o)
To help conquer my diplophobia, I’ll have a pint of everything.
…and possibly a huge bucket.
Please.
Thanks.
Pix I am so glad you asked for the bucket, I know what your like on shots let alone pints – lol
Well since I have a fear of being ignored (Athazagoraphobia) I’ll take any kind of drink that will make me more noticable to everyone…. And after this week make it a very stiff one!
I’m prone to triskaidekaphobia so you’d better just give me fourteen pints of stella.
My demophobia has kept me away from Uborka all week, but I’m here in time to ask for a whiskey sour. I’d have it with water but my hydrophobia is playing up, has been since this morning’s bout of eosophobia.
I’m scared I’m too late. Can I just drink whatever’s left?