Today, I had to make a quickie trip to Safeway for some dinner items and a pharmacy trip. (They'd been calling me for days threatening to put my prescription back on the shelf if I didn't get it today so it was a must.) I quickly grabbed the food stuffs I needed for dinner and sashayed my way over to the pharmacy which is always a somewhat strange experience because, you know....pharmacists know what all the drugs they serve are for.
When I told them my name, the pharmacist raised his eye brows and said, "Oh, yes. I'm glad you came." Now this might sound like a fairly normal interaction between a customer and his client, but for me, this type of statement usually leads to some exceptionally weird shit. You see, I have this little problem. The problem is that people tend to tell me stuff. Lots of people. Lots of stuff.
For example, it is not unusual for me to be in line at the grocery store and to have the person next to me suddenly tell me all their most private, personal stuff. It's pretty weird and occasionally embarrassing. I mean what do you say when someone says, "You know that butter reminds me of the last time I tried to commit suicide?" Granted, there are a lot possibilities, but few are really appropriate. I smile and nod and try to move on, but sometimes they just follow me around continuing the story. I've learned to say, "That must be really hard for you" when what I really want to say is, "What exactly did you do with the butter?"
In fact, the last time I spoke to this pharmacist, he chose to have a whole discussion about how my birthday was exactly 23 days after his and exactly what he thought about his upcoming birthday and exactly how hard high school was and that I "looked pretty good for my age" and that I should really just try this supplement. Really. Truly. No. Shit.
But I digress, so when the pharmacist started the conversation with "oh, yes. I'm glad you came," I admit I was a little on edge. He toddled off to get my prescription and came back with the goods. So far, so good.
I showed my ID, paid, and signed my name on the screen-that-no-one-really-knows-what-it's-for and looked up to find the pharmacist leaning over the counter with the container of one of my meds open. He was uncomfortably close. I was scared.
He leaned over to my ear and whispered, "This is your <for example, we'll just call it "X"> here." Then he closed it up, gave me a I-know-all-your-little-secrets look, and dropped it into the little white pharmacy baggie. Now I thought that was just a little weird even for my little problem. I felt like I was buying some Rx crack or something. But I shrugged it off and headed for the food checkout.
When I got to the checkout, I unloaded all my goods on to the conveyor belt and noticed that my little white pharmacy bag was in fact this....
So now I was in line with a bag that looks like it could have held donuts, but in fact held my Rx crack. I was afraid that when I told her that I paid and it was from the pharmacy that she would insist on seeing it for herself, and then my whole entire cat would be out of my little white cafe bag, and that I would be standing there with no escape route.
Fortunately, my little white cat was not forced to show its ugly little face. Not today anyway. I escaped with only the spit of my pharmacist lingering in my ear and a little more afraid to leave the house than I was before.