Wednesday, January 06, 2010

The O-Ring of Fire (6)...

... The verdict? Fuck if he knew. He said there might be a mild internal ‘roid in there and he gave me two prescriptions: one for a cream and one for… suppositories. [SFX: tuba blat] Can I get a what the shit?! Someone just shoot me now.

So I drive on over to Kroger to pick up my magazine of bum-bullets. Now one of the myriad shitty things about living in a small town is that the pharmacist knows every goddamn pain, rash, infection, psychological disorder and zit going on in your miserable existence. And they know your name. It’s nothing like Cheers, where you go in for a beer and everyone yells, “NORM!” It’s more like, you walk up to the counter and everyone yells, “HEY CRABBY! HOW’S YOUR SORE BALL SACK?”

Anywhich, I dropped off the scripts and skulked on over to the magazine rack to wait until it’s my turn to be publicly humiliated. And I didn’t have to wait long. They called me over and said, and I shit you not:

PHARMACIST: Uh, Mr. Crabby? Yeah, we have that Nupercainal ANAL OINTMENT here for you but the RECTAL SUPPOSITORIES? We don’t have the exact brand that your doctor ordered so we’re going to call him to see if we can substitute the RECTAL SUPPOSITORIES we have here, okay? It’ll just be a few more minutes…

ME: Oh, okay.

ME, IN MY HEAD: One, thank you for announcing my ASSHOLE DISORDER to the entire goddamn store and B, why didn’t you call the fucking doctor FIRST and see if it was okay before calling me over here and embarrassing my ass in front of every goddamn senior citizen in town to TELL me that you were about to call my doctor to ask him. And three, thanks tons for hitting the word “rectal” so fucking hard?! I sure can’t wait until I get ERECTILE DYSFUNCTION. Ya fuck!

And then, about 15 minutes later (when the line was nice and long) they called me back up:

PHARMACIST: Yes, Mr. Crabby? We talked to your doctor’s office and they said the RECTAL SUPPOSITORIES we have here will be fine for YOU. So, if you’ll look here, it’s one suppository, IN YOUR RECTUM, two times a day. Mmmmkay? Do you have any questions?

ME: Just one. Why do you hate me so?

I grabbed the bag, weaved in and out of the line of the elderly and infirm circling me, pointing and laughing, and exited the store in a cold ass-sweat. I realized at this moment that it would have been much easier to have just gotten my asshole removed. Maybe next time.

Up Next: When the Bullet Hits the Bum…


Lisav said...

Thank you for that. i am sorry to be laughing so hard, it might seem insensitive, but OMG, you are a funny, funny man. Some things never change. :)

Hope your bum is better.

Darrin said...

Heh ... Golden Earring reference. Sorry for your butt issues. Came from a small town myself so I understand your predicament. Maybe next time just have the prescription filled in the next town or something, not that you want to spread the news or anything... or... maybe just do the whole mail-order meds thing. Then just the mail man will know your getting prescriptions and he can then attempt to guess what your prob is.

Leslie Hawes said...

Conversation between the deaf, elderly couple sitting nearby...

"What was that he told that nice young man, Marge?"
"Horace, he told him that he had to go to the ERECTILE Depository."
"What the hell does he have to go there for? Think his wanger's something special???"

Crescent said...

I wish they had done a full on Mr. Mom price check over the loud speaker. Sorry to laugh at your BH pain, guy.