"It's the same thing over the counter," the pharmacist continued to try convincing the elderly gentlemen. "It's cheaper and you won't have to wait in line at the counter," he said.
The elderly man's gray head turned reluctantly towards the aisle, his disbelief obvious. "I've always gotten it from the pharmacy."
"Ok, well maybe next time." The pharmacist conceded.
The seven person line moved up one space. The Asian equivalent of Tony and Carmela Soprano stepped up to the counter. Their hushed conversation was practically mute compared to the elevated voices to assist the previous customer. Carmela incessantly floofed her fur collar and readjusted her bump it.
Next in line. Her several layers of winter wear were more appropriate for the slopes than the soggy streets of San Francisco. She pushed a baby buggy covered in a receiving blanket before her. Something about prescription formula and insurance and it being out of stock. She kept demanding to use the land line to call her husband to arrange for him to pick it up across town. She wasn't leaving without assurances. As she rocked the buggy, ostensibly to keep the child asleep instead of screaming from hunger, I envisioned Lewis Carroll's imaginative pig nosed baby hiding beneath the cover up.
I edged closer to the front of the line, sandwiched between the laxatives and herbal remedies. I had never seen an enema before that day. I'd rather not again, if it can be helped. I also realized I had the urge to go the bathroom. The irony wasn't lost on me.
The tall, chic woman in front of me schooled me in fashion. She was city through and through with brown leather saddle boots hugging her legs slightly more loosely than her jeggings. Her flat ironed hair, half way down her back was just so shiny. I wanted to touch it, but refrained. I'm not that creepy bespectacled gal that touches shiny hair in the drug store while you look away. But I am the gal who thinks about it.
The mafia vacated empty handed. Walgreens isn't down with funneling prescription drugs. Or so it seems as Carmela wiggles to the door one hand on her collar and the other on a LV. Baby momma is still on the land line. I can't remember the last time I used a land line. Until I remember that I have a land line at work and used it that morning.
I guess that Shiny Hair is in line for the same reason as me. Ensuring that some bow chica wow wowa doesn't turn into a blanket covered buggy and trips all over town picking up special formula. Well, at least that's her story. I'm not sure what I want. So I take my prescription home and eat some macaroni.
4 hours ago