I only really have one phobia
and the only way I can think of making it interesting is to tie it in with my own QOTW suggestion.
It is a true story though.

A few years back I met my estranged father, it turns out he was a fat, sleazy waste of space, who wasn't worth knowing anyway. But, through him I got to meet my three long-lost half sisters.

I'd awoken one day to the man who had spaffed up my mum 27 years ago calling my mobile and telling me to meet him in a pub that was local to me.
Having only met the guy a few times, and rapidly going off him due to his constant sleazy remarks about girls half his age, boasting about not paying his child support and abandoning his alcoholic second wife, I was reluctant to go to say the least.
But go I did, and I took my little girl along too, as it was a family pub, and she seemed to like him, but I have a feeling that was purely because he would buy her toys, and her other grandad passed away before she was even so much as a twinkle in her mother's eye.

It was the middle of June, and a lovely sunny day, I walked into the beer garden, holding my little girl by the hand, and we approached his table. There I saw that he was sitting with three dark haired, pretty young women, who I instantly recognised as my long lost half sisters. It would be an understatement to say that I was shocked, I was totally over the moon. You have no idea how ecstatic you'll feel in that kind of situation, or the instant bond that forms when it happens, unless you go through it yourself.
We introduced ourselves, there was D (15) who was the eldest, M (13) and C (10), and they all absolutely loved my daughter from the moment they saw her. C even said that she'd always wanted a younger sister, and she was going to adore my little un as if she were her own.

Their confidence was staggering, they all talked with so much gusto and self-assurance it actually intimidated me a little.
Time passed and I became more shy and quiet as they all continued to talk over each other, bicker, and give far too much information far too quickly, just as any normal group of teenage girls would do.
It was lunch time, so 'sleazy little man who knocked my mum up and didn't pay a penny for us, or his three daughters', suggests we order food in the pub, which we did, and I distinctly remember ordering a jacket potato with cheese.
More time passed, and I sat quietly in the sunshine, sipping my pint and trying to digest as much of the 'she said, they did, omg can you believe what my teacher did?!' that my semi-siblings were spouting at me like crazed zealots. Then lunch arrived, and I was faced with my achilles heel, my one nemesis, the only thing on Earth capable of rendering me a fearful wreck.

They had put beans on my potato.

Beans, for me, are more than a phobia, they are the root source of all that is wrong with the world. I can't stand the smell, the shape or the colour, don't even think about getting them anywhere near my mouth, I'll vomit all over you before you even get close.

But this is the first time I've ever met my three massively over-confident half sisters, I was scared, surely I couldn't show weakness in front of them? I can't send them back, after all, everybody loves beans, don't they? I'd have looked silly.
So, faced with this conundrum, and the three teenage harpies of doom, I did what any real man would. I faced my fear. I was going to have to eat the beans.

I can still feel them in my throat as I write this, they were truly horrible, the smell filled my nostrils and I could even feel their slimy, bean-y texture flowing over my tongue, oozing down to my stomach, and my teeth were coated in their tomato sauce-beany juices.
I had to hold my breath and hold back the bile rising in my chest with every single bite. But I stayed calm, I held my nerve, I was smiling and nodding nonchalantly as i listened to my sisters' incessant warblings, they had no idea how easy it would've been for me to have given up and just spew all over their faces. But I persevered, until every last mouthful was gone.
I was filled with an enormous amount of pride at my achievement, and silently vowed to never do it again. They hadn't even noticed anything different about me, and in my own mind I was champion of the world for eating that lunch.

Anyways, a few months later, 'sleazy little greaseball who knocked up my mum' disappeared again, but I stayed in touch with my sisters. M, the middle child and definitely the most outspoken and confident, emailed me one day to tell me that, 'I can't believe you ate all those beans that first time we met, I have this totally irrational fear of them.'

Arse.
( Bert Monkeysex is waiting for the mods to delete him, Thu 10 Apr 2008, 15:31, 15 replies)

Fantastic
Nicely written, wasn't expecting something serious from you.
( Cawl, Thu 10 Apr 2008, 15:41, closed)

I like to mix it up
once in a while
( Bert Monkeysex is waiting for the mods to delete him, Thu 10 Apr 2008, 15:42, closed)

Me too!
Beans are Satan's piles. Bert, I thought I was the only one...

Perchance we are brothers? Come, brother, embrace me!
( Devil_In_Tights the *real* DiT!, Thu 10 Apr 2008, 15:47, closed)

Knowing my old man
it's a possibility DIT, has your mum ever been with a short, greasy, hairy, sleazy scotsman?

...no, not me, I'm 5'10"
( Bert Monkeysex is waiting for the mods to delete him, Thu 10 Apr 2008, 15:49, closed)

Doesn't this prove
that your Dad passed on to both of you the "hating baked beans gene" - which shows that there is a genetic code for hating baked beans...mad. I have lots of "half" siblings myself, despite having spent 10 years as an only child, so it is bizarre to see how traits can be genetic as they emerge without having been brought up in the same environment. It's also fascinating observing them in others - my ex's family has a bullshit gene which comes from the mother, luckily my ex doesn't have it, but I'm worried my daughter has...
( I_Was_Mordred, Thu 10 Apr 2008, 15:52, closed)

I'd never thought about it that way Mordred...
*ponders*
( Bert Monkeysex is waiting for the mods to delete him, Thu 10 Apr 2008, 15:54, closed)

Knowing my old Ma, Bert...
Anything is possible... ;)

*prays Mother doesn't read B3ta and prepares for the beatings if she does*
( Devil_In_Tights the *real* DiT!, Thu 10 Apr 2008, 15:57, closed)

Very nice.
And I'm glad you've gotten to know your half-sisters. That in itself is pure win.
( The Resident Loon Not a demographic. Do not measure., Thu 10 Apr 2008, 16:09, closed)

Not necessarily TRL
Two out of three have turned out to be utter mental cases.

Oh well...
( Bert Monkeysex is waiting for the mods to delete him, Thu 10 Apr 2008, 16:17, closed)

Beans
Does the phobia only cover baked beans in tomato sauce, or does it also include different varieties of beans like kidney, green, runner...?

I'm not taking the piss, I'm genuinely curious.
(Blue_in_Exile, Thu 10 Apr 2008, 16:19, closed)

Just baked beans
I'm ok with all other varieties.
( Bert Monkeysex is waiting for the mods to delete him, Thu 10 Apr 2008, 16:22, closed)

That's a good story. Have an ascii sexmonkey, Bert
:(|) 8===> - - -
( crackhouseceilidhband Fuck off back to Mumsnet, Thu 10 Apr 2008, 17:35, closed)

I like this
but i'm also curious to know where the goat fits in?
(Bazongaloid, Fri 11 Apr 2008, 1:18, closed)

I left Nanny
(the goat that I was seeing at the time) in bed when I went off to meet my sisters. She was still waiting for me when I got back, with a big smile on her beardy face... ahh, memories.
She was one on the best I've ever had.
( Bert Monkeysex is waiting for the mods to delete him, Fri 11 Apr 2008, 9:07, closed)

.
Bert - whatever you do, don't try natto!
(chase, Mon 14 Apr 2008, 16:04, closed)