How you know it's time to back slowly towards the exit whilst browsing through the books in a small town jumble sale:
When the first two paperbacks you see are called The Pre-Wrath Rapture of the Church and Winning Your Inner War with Satan. The words 'Armageddon' and 'evil' also appeared to be prominent among the titles on display.
There may, or may not, also have been biographies of each of the four horsemen of the Apocalypse. I don't know. I was backing slowly towards the exit.

I'm currently reading a novel - Complicity by Iain Banks - in which the protagonist is a journalist. Cameron Colley is a reporter on an Edinburgh newspaper who gets into a spot of bother when his mysterious, Deep Throat-esque source leads him into some very dark places indeed. Anyhow, young Cameron is presented as a kind of everyman hack.

Here are some of his activities:

Snorting speed several times a day

Drink-driving

Having an affair with his friend's wife

Obsessively playing computer games till 4 in the morning

Killing a man

And that old favourite:
Lying to his editor

Ah, nice to have role models, isn't it?

re·lief n ( P ) Pronunciation Key (r-lf).
1.The easing of a burden or distress, such as pain, anxiety, or oppression.
2.Something that alleviates pain or distress.
3.Public assistance.
Aid in time of danger, especially rescue from siege.
4. Emerging from driving test centre in Finglas with slip of paper bearing the words 'certificate of competency'.

I emerge from the centre with a big stupid grin plastered across my face. A guy around my own age is at his car as I arrive at mine. He beams across at me, brandishing his own little pink slip of paper.
"Wahaay!", he says (or words to that effect).
"Nice one", I concur.
"I'm getting straight on to the insurance company", he says and drives away.
Another man has witnessed the exchange. He comes over as I'm getting into my car.
"You passed?", he asks, rather plaintively. It's clear from his tone that he hasn't. He's thirty-ish, wearing thick glasses, sounds Eastern European.
"Yeah"
"How?"
"Eh, just didn't make too many mistakes, I guess. I failed the first time I did it."
"I fail for second time"
He shrugs and walks away disconsolately.

I drive out of the car park. On the way home the car cuts out.
Well, naturally.