The very uncomfortable fear as you step into your barbershop but your regular barber isn't there and you've already made eye contact with the new-guy and reflexively thrown out an "Afternoon mate". He asks you to sit, and, shitting it, you politely comply.

Hey look I'm having to hoover AGAIN as Jones downshifts into the living room hairpin bend. Relatable.

How different a world would it have been if I didn't skip them and go straight to Yellow?

Remember when TV channels changed from black and white to colour? I feel like I've just gone through that.