The Only Thing We Have to Fear is Food Itself

I was listening to talk radio one night and the topic was phobias.  As an acute sufferer of claustrophobia, I would never be one to criticize, but the woman who called in actually said she had a fear of – are you ready for this – condiments. 

At first I thought I had heard it wrong, like maybe she said condoms, or condominiums, but no, it was condiments.  She went on to explain that if she were to attend a BBQ she would be afraid of what was going to be put out on the table. 

I don’t think the radio host was prepared to discuss how to handle a fear of deranged catsup bottles, malicious A1 sauce or homicidal mustard so he said thanks for calling and moved on to the next nut. 

And I thought to myself, as a child, was this poor woman attacked by an errant jar of relish?