Don't judge me!

I know that I shouldn't care what people think about me, blah blah blah etc. But sometimes I REALLY don't want people to judge me. This is usually when I'm buying fast food.

One time my friend Sam and I had been drinking and watching It's Always Sunny all night, and the next morning we were feeling pretty hungover. We decided to go and get McDonalds.

I got a bacon and egg bagel, and it was the most delicious thing I'd ever had in my life.

But I was still hungover, so I decided that I wanted another one.

After much deliberating over the pros of having another bagel vs the cons of people judging me, I remembered that there was another McDonalds five minutes away. So I made a hungover Sam come with me all the way to another McDonalds just so I wouldn't get judged.

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When I was in Tasmania I discovered how delicious Tower Burgers from KFC are. I ate more KFC in those two weeks than I had in my entire life (I wasn't much of a KFC fan before that).

On my last day in Australia (In Melbourne) I wanted to have one last tower burger, because we didn't have them in New Zealand. I went and got one, and it was soooo delicious I decided to get another one.

But once again, I didn't want people to judge me. I knew that there was another KFC nearby, so I walked there to get another one. As I sat down to eat, a horrible thought struck me. In my head, the map went like this:

WHAT IF THIS WAS THE SAME KFC?? One big KFC, with a kitchen in the middle, and a door on either street. What if the counter staff changed between the Swanston st side and the Elizabeth st side? Even if the counter staff didn't swap over, the kitchen staff would recognise my order, because I asked for extra supercharged sauce! THEY'RE JUDGING ME! I worried about this the whole time I ate my burger, and it completely ruined my last tower burger.

Later I figured out that they were different KFCs. And when I got back to NZ I found out that tower burgers had been released there too, so I didn't even need to have two "last" ones.


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I'm a little bit scared of telling this story, because after this story nothing I write will ever be this funny again. I apologise in advance.

I hit a new low at work one night. After the usual half an hour long "What do I want for dinnerrrrrr?" I decided to get a pie. I went to the bakery and got a potato top pie, and it was sooooo delicious I decided to get another one. But once again, I didn't want people to judge me.

I tried getting my workmate Joe to go get me a pie.

I tried getting Maria to go get me a pie.

I tried getting Lincoln to go get me a pie.

So I decided to man up and get my own pie. But I decided to disguise myself so that they wouldn't recognise me. My hair was down, so I tied it up.

I took my lip piercings out.

I took my work shirt off.

(Ok, so I know that my onesy isn't my work shirt, but I was too lazy to go back and change the other pictures, DON'T JUDGE ME)

I raided the lost property, and found a hat,

 a scarf,

and some glasses.

Convinced that nobody would recognise me, I went back to the bakery.

As soon as I went inside, I started cracking up. I laughed hysterically. I was crying with laughter.

The guy that was working was quite concerned.

When I finally managed to breathe again, I told him why I was laughing so much.

He then judged me at least 53 times more than what he would have originally judged me if I'd just gone and got a second pie.

It also didn't help that a few weeks later when I went to get a pie the guy in front of me bought the last one. I said "Nooooo!!!!" and ran out. Now every time I go in there the guy gets a fearful look in his eyes and checks if there are any potato top pies.