Originally written February 4th…
My lovely wife is sickly. Something got her and got her good. She’s been in bed for the better part of two days. A sinus infection has gotten so bad that she developed a form of vertigo. I feel terrible for her and I wish there was something I could do for her, other than getting her drinks and making her poached eggs. She freely admits that my eggs are the best. I know, ha!
Yesterday, we loaded up the family and took Tami to her doctor’s office so he could diagnose and get her started on some medication to rid her of the infection. We dropped her off at the front entrance and like a big strong woman knocked down by an illness, she gingerly made her way into the office.
I proceeded to drive around the business complex since sitting in one spot for too long, with two children, under the age of three, will not fly as entertainment to the short attention span my little angels possess. I went along at a snails pace weaving in and out of shipping alleys and parking lots in the business park that houses my wife’s doctor’s office. After a little while I decided that a change of scenery was badly needed. I ventured out onto the main roads and mapped out a course that would bring us by the complex every little while.
On we drove until I started getting dizzy. It turns out that the kids loved the little weaving this way and that. Like the effects of a rocking chair or the not too long ago ride in Mommy’s belly during the gestational period, the car has silenced the little cherubs. With their eyes closed and my willingness to drive in circles I stuck to the complex. No longer was the entertainment factor in the equation.
Tami finally rang the phone and I swung the vehicle around to the front of the complex where I dropped her off less than an hour ago. She made her way to the van, looking a little relieved to know that death wasn’t imminent, though it may have been welcomed not too long ago. She climbed in and I charted a course for the pharmacy.
We reached the pharmacy in record time (it’s only a few blocks away and within the town’s limits) and I found a spot near the front door. I slid the gear shifter into park and reached for the prescriptions and as I did, I glanced back to the innocent little honey’s slumbering in the back seat. They’re so tender and mild when they lay asleep. Little ingrates!
I walked into the box drug store chain located on the corner of Sheridan Drive and Colvin Boulevard. As I negotiated around an older gentleman resembling the hunchback of Notre Dame 300 years later I found myself headed down the isle with feminine hygiene products. I instantly had a plugged feeling come over me. I know, lame ass joke. Too bad asshole, this is my blog!
So I dropped off the script at the appropriate window and asked how long it may take to fill. 15 minutes was the reply.
Here it comes… 15 minutes would have been plenty of time to head to the ATM machine at the bank. The insanity that followed is one for the books.
I wandered around the store for a while and must have passed the pharmacy counter five, six, maybe seven times. The older woman that was playing pharmacy cashier watched me walk by each and every time. This would have a been a great time to let me in on her precious little secret.
She stood there in all her glory constantly primping herself. In her mind she was a God send, the catch of the century at the tender young age of 65+. Her hair was a blazing flame red and her glasses, which were precariously perched on the end of her nose were about the same color as her hair. What a fashion statement! I actually got semi-hard each time I looked at her. In her fucking dreams!
She reminded me so much of Mr. Heat Miser from the claymation favorite The Year Without a Santa Claus that she could have been his mother. However, we know from the endearing little story that Mother nature is his Mommy. So, for the purpose of argument, let’s label her as his wife.
The prescriptions were finally ready and I approached the counter as Mrs. Miser stood there looking at me. It’s not easy to walk with a stiffy I can tell you that much. The pharmacist began to explain to me which drug did what, the possible side effects and which one must be taken with food. Sometimes that’s some real complicated shit. Formulas only appreciated by the chemist himself. As the pharmacist ran through the do’s and dont’s I couldn’t help but glance at the Mrs. Miser and each time I did I could hear a song off in the distance…
I’m Mister Green Christmas
I’m Mister Sun
I’m Mister Heat Blister
I’m Mister Hundred and One
They call me Heat Miser,
What ever I touch
Starts to melt in my clutch
I’m too much!
The pharmacist finished up and the red headed fire queen inquired “Will that be cash or credit sir?” No sooner did I get the words credit out of my mouth the she-devil fired back, “I’m sorry sir we can only accept cash at this time.”
Whoa! Wait a minute! WTF just happened.
I swear time stood still for a moment as I rewound the conversation in my head and let it replay a couple of times. Nope, I wasn’t fucking nuts, she did ask me “Cash or Credit?”
I told her all I had was a $5 and what was a I supposed to do. I don’t normally carry cash on me. I use my card for just about everything. Unless of course I know I’m headed somewhere that only accepts cold hard U.S. currency.
She broke into a complex series of whodunnits to the likes of which even Professor Plum in the billiard room with a candle stick would be envious of. As she explained how the stars in the universe aligned to specifically ruin her day, her voice cut through me like a hot knife through butter. I wanted to chew glass with each word that screeched out of her mouth like nails on a chalk board.
She droned on in her complaint style of customer service even Lily Tomlin as the switchboard operator would find appalling. I began do digress and could feel myself morphing into a hunched over neanderthal man wielding a club and ready to beat the red headed monstrosity into a bloody pulp.
Her voice was like Kryptonite to me, I couldn’t lift my knuckles off the floor to swing my club at her. I grunted quietly while screaming on the inside. My patience was wearing thin and ready to snap any second like a spider’s web in a hail storm.
I could go on and I had more in my original version that was lost somewhere in the cyber-abyss so, I close this excerpt so that I may silence the lambs! It was a torturous experience to say the least.
Needless to say, I emerged unscathed for the most part and continue to delicately lick the wounds sustained by her venomous nature. Long live the fire headed she-devil in red glasses!
Cheers!
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