Astute readers may recall that my trips to the pharmacy are rarely dull. It’s something about living in a small town, the pharmacy brings out the best in all of us. Or something. Anyway, today I had to go to the pharmacy, and I figured that I would be safe from the hot pharmacist, because it’s been awhile and he might not work there anymore.
Imagine my surprise when I walked up to the counter to see my high school science teacher (and an old family friend) working behind the counter. The following thoughts went through my head:
1. Is that Ryane?
2. Why is Ryane working at Longs? He practices traditional Chinese medicine, which seems rather far from the Longs company mission.
3. Shit, I have to hand a prescription for birth control to my high school science teacher.
At any rate, I handed him the prescription, he asked me about the book I had tucked under my arm, and then I went to sit and wait. Bringing the book turned out to be a good call, since the pharmacy was a hoppin’ place, and my prescription took a little while. I read about the extinction of megafauna while various confused old women tried to pick up their prescriptions, and tried not to listen to their conversations, which was hard since the seats are about three feet away from the pickup counter.
Alas, I didn’t entirely escape the now only somewhat hot pharmacist, since he was the one who brought my prescription to the counter. Fortunately, our mission was accomplished without a hitch, except for this brief exchange:
“Have you used this prescription before?”
“Er, great. Well then. Sign here.”
And I did, and all was well. I was free to traipse back home through the miasma of dust rising from Franklin Street, which is now partially paved. And completely devoid of people. I mean completely devoid, not a single person to be seen except for an assortment of construction workers and store employees sitting out front watching the construction workers, since the stores have no business.
When I got home, I pulled out my prescription so that I could mock the warning stickers and put it in the fridge, where it belongs. I’m a big fan of “you should not smoke while taking this medication,” since it’s such a polite request. Not “don’t smoke,” or “smoking while taking hormonal birth control has been linked to cancer,” but “you should not smoke.” The large “VAGINAL USE ONLY” sticker is my personal favourite, as it makes me want to be contrary and swallow it instead. Do they really need a neon “VAGINAL USE ONLY” sticker on a box of birth control which clearly says “NuvaRing Vaginal Contraceptive Ring”? By the way, Organon, props on the new three in one packaging. I’m all about packaging efficiency wherever it can be found.