I visit the pharmacy at least once per month for prescription medication. I call in my order so that I can go directly to that little "I called my meds in" counter (drive through equivalent less the burger and shake) pick up my stash and be gone. However it never goes that smoothly. I end up standing there forever while the pharmacy clerks call out names of people who are in aisle 5 choosing shampoo from 500 brands all promising to give them shinier, smoother and luster (is that a word?) hair. Then there are the people who are sitting in that tiny waiting area on those old, stained chairs. Now these are people who clearly have nowhere else to be because when their name is called they are too busy sitting there reading those info cards from that spinning rack.
Let's face it those cards are awfully depressing but we read them because hey, they're free. I like to close my eyes and just pick one - oh.. what's this? DIARRHEA - how we get it, what it does and where it goes? Once I opened my eyes to HALITOSIS - bad breath - you have it- get rid of it - you stink - pop a mint - will ya?
It got me thinking, maybe I have halitosis because often when I speak to people they cover their mouth/nose area but then I realized it's usually because they are laughing at me. I tend to have a few spokes of hair stuck like icicles on the very top of my head and this for some reason makes people chuckle - it's very easy for me to make people happy.
So I took my hand and covered my mouth and took a deep, hard breath out - and you know what? My breath stank - I mean it really smelled - I couldn't believe it - I really did have HALITOSIS. What was I to do?
Yeah so I'm waiting at the drive through and decide to call out to one of the clerks who keeps announcing someone' s Auntie Henrietta's name out loud even though there is no sign of her because she is looking at laxatives in aisle 4. The clerk is about 12 yrs old (I'm up in the country and they hire as of 12 yrs of age here - they pay them less and well things just take a little longer and get done a little worse than they would with an adult behind the counter) and she just looks at me like "why are you standing at that counter?" She has no idea that the drive through even exists or that I called mine in last night.
Finally an actual pharmacist appears (in white coat with ID apparent) and so I am about to call him over when he calls out Auntie Henrietta's name again (I really don't know whose aunt she is but she ain't mine and I'm about to go find her and pull her away from the hemorrhoid ointments). I appear before him and he asks if I am her and I say yes and I also called some stuff in for my niece - Lisa Cohen. He looks at me - no question, no pause and he hands me my stuff waiting in one of those little pink baskets (what's up with the baskets? why don't they just put it into a bag) and he gives me everything including Henrietta's Viagra which turns out to be for Henrietta's husband Boris.
I look around me and a line has suddenly formed. Have you ever noticed how miserable people look in the pharmacy line? Every ones got something itching or burning or going on in their body and they all look about as happy as people waiting for stand by for a plane they know they are never really going to get on.
I pay up (what do you know? the Quebec government doesn't cover Viagra - the stuff cost me a fortune) and I walk up and down every aisle yelling "Henrietta Schechter (now I have her full name) and finally this plump little lady walks up to me. I hand her the Viagra and she just looks at me, winks and smiles. I realize I'm in my hoodie and my regular Gap Junior Boys outfit and that she thinks I am a boy and well you can guess the rest.
I briskly make my way out of the store and walk home. When I arrive at my house I go to put my drugs into the medicine cabinet (isn't it just a cupboard with a mirror?) - and I realize that they aren't my drugs. They belong to someone named Auntie Hilda. I read the label and it says "FOR TREATMENT OF HALITOSIS"