Well those of you who know me know that I prefer the second option: flight. As such, when I haven't handed something in at uni, or there's someone annoyed at me, I generally curl into a little ball in my room and hope it goes away. (As an aside, I know my room is safe because I am camouflaged by all my clothes on the floor- no-one can spot me!!!) Well, unfortunately, I have a few hangovers from last term- lecturers who want to speak to me (argh...) etc. One particular gent, whom I fear the most, has the unsavoury habit of eating lunch in the same place I do, and at around the same time. Keeping in mind my preferred confrontation technique then, all I can do is scurry past him, and hide in the darkest corner of the room, hoping to blazes he doesn't look around.
Today I thought, as I huddled closer to the wall, trying desperately to blend in, how strange it is that such a seemingly non-threatening man could inspire such terror in me. And then I had these great images of a horror movie, where the typical cast of idiot teens ran screaming from armies of mild-mannered, polite, sweet, greying, balding, skinny, frail and generally harmless old men. I can see it now: the busty blonde dying of fear as one caught up to her and said: "Tiffany, we need to talk. I'll be in my office this afternoon." I think I'd sympathise with her.