WARNING: THIS POST MAY CONTAIN ONE OR ALL OF THE FOLLOWING--
CONTINUE READING AT YOUR OWN RISK.
I'm not sure what it is with "loud talkers" that they think that everything in life must be uttered at an ear-shattering decibel. One of my patients at the orthodontist office was a loud talker AND had Aspbergers, so when he said, "This radio station's for pussies!", it sort of reverberated throughout the open clinic. Nice. Some people's voices just carry more than others, I guess. In college, we always labeled them "Loud Guy". "Oh, So-and-so, he's 'Loud Guy'."
My pharmacist is a "Loud Guy".
I know he's a Loud Guy because I'm one of those really awesome people that gets to see my pharmacist WAY more than the average person, due to the fact that my tonsils are hard-core partiers with sundry bacteria and whatnot. They're the Lindsay Lohan of my body. About every six weeks, they hold a kegger with every germ in the neighborhood. (It's nice to know that they're not bigoted in any way. Jesus would be proud of how accepting they are, really.) Yes, so my overly-friendly tonsils cause me to drag my ass into CVS quite regularly, and my pharmacist just peers at me over the top of his glasses and fills my prescription. This is after he asks, for the seventeenth time, "HAVE YOU HAD A PRESCRIPTION WITH US BEFORE?"
To which I'd like to reply, just as loudly, "YES, DUMB ASS. YOU SEE ME ALL THE TIME. AND WHY ARE YOU PEERING? QUIT PEERING. THIS MAKES ME DOUBT YOUR ABILITY TO COUNT PILLS. ESPECIALLY YOUR ABILITY TO COUNT THE RIGHT PILLS." (What I really say, though, is, "Yes".)
"OKAY," he'll say, "IT'LL BE FIFTEEN MINUTES." At which point, I'll tool around CVS looking at magazines and buying make-up I don't need while I wait.
So then, about a month ago, I began having some, uh, "issues"...you know, down there. And not my throat or esophagus "down there", but down there down there. I thought I could ignore it, thinking maybe I'd switched to a soap that down there didn't like, but it never really cleared up, and last week, I found myself at the doctor's, you know, the down there doctor (hence the italics), and it turns out that my good girl is just a drama queen and doesn't like change, and "here's a 'scrip that'll clear that up in no time." And by "clear up", I don't mean anything disgusting. I was just using the phrase as a way to describe...never mind.
ANYWAY, I go to visit my favorite loud-talking pharmacist. I hand him my prescription, and then watch as he walks aimlessly 'round and 'round a shelving unit full of creams and salves (Hmmm...I wonder what "Anal Gesic" is for...) looking for my needed medicine. After five minutes on this circuit, during which time I was sure if he peered less I would have been checked out by now, he tells me, "WE DON'T HAVE THAT IN STOCK."
"Oh," I reply. "Can I get it at another CVS?"
"YEAH. THE ONE IN GAHANNA SHOULD HAVE IT."
"Alright," I sigh, thinking of driving through four o'clock traffic to the neighboring suburb. "Could you maybe call and check to be sure they have it before I drive there?"
"SURE." He got on the horn.
I'm not sure what I was thinking. Maybe I thought he wouldn't be quite so loud on the phone, or maybe I thought he'd just give them the name of the medicine I needed. Maybe I thought...I don't know what I thought, but I still didn't expect:
"HELLO, THIS IS SO-AND-SO FROM STELZER ROAD. (pause). DO YOU HAVE SUCH-AND-SUCH VAGINAL CREAM?"
Oh dear God.
I actually laughed out loud. I wasn't even embarrassed because it was so darn funny that now not only did everyone in the store know what medicine I needed, they knew roughly why. I mean, if you say something like, "DO YOU HAVE AMOXICILLIN?" that's a hard one to place. You may have any number of things wrong with you. But yell "VAGINAL CREAM" and there's something very obviously goin' on with your no-no. Nobody uses vaginal cream for their face. Or for the flu. Or for a sinus infection. Yep...no mistaking that one. The only way it could have been worse is if I was a guy and my friendly pharmacist asked for "VIAGRA", because that word erases any question you might have about why that person needs that particular drug.
Ah, well, hmm. And now YOU all know what medicine I needed. This is far worse than Loud Guy. I am now "TMI Girl". Great. Well! I think that's enough over-exposure for you all today...
At least I wasn't rambling about coffee...