Really rough Latin
for "fear of dividing lines" or something like that.
Technically, a total fabrication by myself, but I wanted there to be an official term for the fear of delineators. You know, those innocent looking metal posts with reflectors on the top that line the sides of almost every highway in the States..
I have tribuofuniphobia.
Ever since that one night 2 years ago where I hit one at 80 miles per hour, that is. Yeah, they LOOK innocent, but man can they tear up a car. Starred windshield, dented hood, broken fender -- and that was before it threw the car in a 360-degree spin out across the highway and into a ditch.
Of course, that wasn't as bad as what came after.
Sitting on the bench seat of the tow truck, 4 guys crammed onto a seat for 3 people. Ending up at a shady auto dealership with an even shadier van driver. He offered to give us a ride to Albany or to Utica. He said he was going to Utica anyways, and that the bus station there had busses to Worcester all night.
He lied. Yeah, the last one left at 6:30pm. We arrived at about 8pm. So we walked. And we walked. We walked through what looked like a mafia execution site underneath an overpass. We crossed a 6-lane highway bridge on a sidewalk about 3 inches wide. Finally, starving, dirty, lost, and exhausted, we made it to a McDonald's. One of us went up for ketchup packets, and we saw a bus outside. Headed to NYC. The driver was standing in line, waiting to order his Big Mac Extra Value Meal. Some fast talking and almost all of our cash got us a ride to Albany.
In the Albany bus station, which looked remarkably like the Syracuse bus station in that it was scary, we called Ivan256's roomate. He said he'd come get us. 3 hours of pinball and black & white tv later, we finally left. 3 more hours and I was standing in Ivan256's ghetto apartment, completely worn out. I took a shower in the bathroom with a low leaky ceiling and fell asleep in their living room on a bean bag chair.