Nurse the Hate: Hate the Fear

They say the #1 fear of most people is public speaking. I have always found that odd as there is so much more to fear. The obvious thing that all people should fear is a chimp attack. That would be the #1 fear if we only had better education on that issue. That is obviously a breakdown of The System. However, most other fears are usually personal. Allow me to unburden myself and provide you a quick list of things I am truly afraid of…

• A naked clown in my closet with an axe- I think I share the same thought in the back of my mind that most of us do when we open a closet door at night. Is there going to be a naked clown smiling holding a bloody axe on the other side of this door? I always feel like I have dodged a bullet when I discover it’s just my clothes waiting for me on the other side. One day that clown will be there, and when he is I will scream out like a 10 year old girl and wet myself. I’m not proud of that, but I feel like I should be honest.

• Large spiders- Specifically I am afraid of a large spider biting my testicles and them swelling to the size of softballs. I then imagine going to an emergency room to find the only doctor is a young intern. He will be heavily sweating, and will look back and forth between a medical journal and my purple swollen testicles trying to figure out what to do. He would then say something like, “This may be a bit uncomfortable.” as he pierces the now throbbing skin with a knitting needle and releases a geyser of blood and pus. The fluid would be running down the plastic curtain of the examination room like rainwater. The nurse would faint dead away as the intern screams “Ohmygod! Ohmygod! Ohmygod!”

• The Wiggles- I have friends with small children that watch those Wiggles DVDs. Those DVD are scarier to me than “The Shining”. First of all, I am greatly suspicious of a group of four men in uni color shirts that spend the majority of their time with children. And what’s with the one that is always falling asleep? Nodding off on a heroin run more like it… They also have a friend named “Captain Feathersword the Friendly Pirate”. That sounds like the kind of guy that would start to rub your neck from behind and whisper into your ear with rum breath “Let me show you how friendly a pirate I really am...” as you struggle to get away. That whole thing is a real bad scene.

• Recurring dreams- I sometimes have a dream that repeats over and over where I am unprepared for a school exam, and I can’t even find the room where the test is being given no matter how I search. It plays in my head like a loop. I can be having the dream, while also realizing it is a dream, and still be unable to do anything but have it repeat in my head like a Seinfeld re-run. Why does that particular dream have to run over and over again instead of one recently where I was walking in California in a nice breeze? That is a moment I could stay in forever. Instead I am walking around in a campus vaguely like Kent State circa 1988 unable to find room 216.

* Hank III concert attendees- I don't know if you have ever seen Hank III, who is excellent by the way, but the people that come out to see him are terrifying. I attend most noteworthy American roots shows in the area, and I have to say, I have never seen the majority of people that came out to see Hank III the last time he was at the House of Blues. There was a guy with an entire tattooed face that had his 10 year old son. Plenty of men with eyes set too far apart in their heads like two legged hammerhead sharks. Angry drunken hillbillies with sullen chain smoking girlfriends. In every direction was someone vaguely off that was drinking a 16 oz can of domestic macrobrew and hoping to make eye contact so some sort of argument could ensue. Hell is probably a lot like that concert, but with a much much worse bathroom situation.

* Hotel room drinking glasses- I can sleep almost anywhere. (See "Nurse the Hate-Cheap Motels" re: Cuntlips Motor Lodge) Even though it is almost certain that less that 24 hours earlier a fat man was bound to this very bed and shat on by a leather clad dominatrix named "Misery", I can strike that from my mind. A crabs ridden plumbing supply salesman may have been spooning the pillow, his louse infested ass hair pressed against the same material where my face now rests. Not a problem. It never happened. I can distance myself from those events. However, there is no way for me to imagine that those drinking glasses with the cardboard toppers on them have been cleaned by anyone. That Guatemalan maid with trench mouth was probably sipping from it while watching "All My Children" when she cleaned up the feces filled linens from last night. Then she slipped the cardboard ring back over the glass and left it for you. Now, that's gross.

This begets the question... Which is scarier? Going to a Hank III concert with Captain Feathersword the Friendly Pirate, or having to give a speech in front of a naked clown and an angry chimp?