My wife and I, in the fun joyous time that is packing for a quick trip for two children and ourselves, forgot the medicine in the refrigerator for the kids’ ears. If you’ve never packed for a child, take whatever you pack for yourself and times it by 347, then cram it all into something smaller than a military transport vehicle.
We were able to call it in and run to a small town pharmacy – a small town pharmacy on a Saturday night looks like a carnival ran into…well, another trashier carnival. We were behind a woman who’s hair belonged on the set of the Outsiders. A man to the right wore overalls and house slippers. But the best was yet to be seen.
A cell phone rang and my wife instinctively looked over. A woman, wearing a shirt that pictured a cat, in Uncle Sam wear, holding a sparkler and riding a bald eagle. “That’s my phone, not yours!” she bellered. The man next to her had his head cocked to the side so far I thought he would fall over. His wide eyed stare entered my soul for a hot second, but I was able to look away before I turned into stone.
Minutes later, she approached, for no reason. “My son would love that shirt!” She pointed at my wife’s Ohio State tee. There were probably five Ohio State tees being worn in the store, as it was gameday. Her teeth looked like she brushed the bottom half of the top row only. A brownish red stripe ran across the Maginot line of gunk. “He’s 17, but has the mind of a 15 year old.” Well, there’s a huge difference. She began telling us about a blanket she got him. My only thought was “don’t look at her teeth or the staring guy”. While she spoke, the gazer mumbled to the pharmacy clerk and once they understood him, got six bottles of pills. SIX. The lady was blathering on about the blanket, but the pills finally broke her tale and we were able to escape, somewhat unscathed. We finally got our kids’ medicine and ran for the exit, afraid to look back, lest we turn into a pillar of salt like Lot’s wife. I will never return to this cursed land.