When I was about 10 weeks pregnant, I had to pickup up
something at the pharmacy. It was a busy night in the pharmacy lobby. I think it was cold season so people hung out and sneezed, coughed, and hacked all over. I stood in line and waited until they called my name. Then
walked up to the counter, ready to reconfirm my name and birth date and deny a consultation
from the pharmacist on the proper use of
stool softeners (yeah for being prego)
“JENNIFER!” I heard the familiar old voice yell.
Oops. That’s me. I scurried
to the front of the line (that’s right. I scurried. You go 8 days without a BM
and I dare you NOT to scurry anywhere).
“Yup. Hi that’s me. All set? OK. What’s the damage? Here’s
my card” I really was hoping to get out of here right away.
“I SEE HERE YOU HAVE A PERSCRIPTION FOR …. POLYETHYLENE GLYCOL.
THIS IS A HUGE BOTTE TOO. YOU MUST BE ALL SORTS OF BACKED UP” I swear she yells
just like that all the time.
“HAVING SOME TROUBLES THERE? IN THE LOWER AREAS? NEEDING TO
POOP? SOMETIMES I FIND THAT A NICE BOWL OF SHREDDED WHEAT AND SOME RASPERB-“
“I appreciate the suggestion. I’ll give that a try. Here is
my card.” I handed the card from under the register where I had crawled.
‘THEY SHOULD JUST RIGHT MIROLAX ON THE BOTTLE. YA KNOW THIS
IS THE SAME STUFF ONT THE SHELF OVER THERE BUT WE CHARGE YOU MORE BECAUSE YOU
HAVE PRESCRIPTION FOR THIS POOP START? CRAZY HUH? JUST LOOK OVER THERE. IT’S
$5.00 LESS. WHAT A RACKET”
I went back under the
register.
“OH HUN I JUST NEED TO CONFIRM YOUR INFO…. HON…”
“Oh yeah” I responded, slowly crawling out from under the
front of the register. “My name? It’s F.
But it could be under B. I just got married in September and sometimes I forget
if under my maiden name or new married name-”
“NO DEAR. I NEED YOUR FIRST NAME.”
“Of course. My name is …………………………………………… my name is…………………………………………..I’m…………………………………”
OMFG I forgot my name. MY FIRST NAME!!! The same first name I have had for 30
years. It’s not even like it’s a unique name. It’s Jennifer! One of the most
common names ever.Everyone knows a Jennifer.
This was way more embarrassing than the checker announcing to
the entire lobby that I was picking up a giant bottle of stool softener.
“YES DEAR? YOUR FIRST NAME?” SHE ASKED ME AGAIN.
I just stared at her. I swear, I stared at this woman for 10 minutes.
She stared back. No one moved. No one blinked. Total silence. I’m sure it was really more
like 5 seconds.
No matter how long it was, she eventually reached for the
prescription bottle and broke the silence. “JENNIFER? THAT’S YOUR NAME.” It was a statement that
meant our staring contest had ended.
“YES!” I shouted like she had just told me I won the stool
softener lottery.
“Yes! My name is Jennifer! I knew it would come back to me.
I felt so proud of myself.
“I’m sorry. I’m pregnant.” Like maybe this would justify my
weird behavior.
And it did.
‘OOOOOOOOOOOHHHH.” The cashier said in understanding. “IT’S
EITHER THE BABIES OR THE BOOZE THAT MAKE YA FORGET. CONGRATS ON THE LITTLE ONE.”
I beamed as I handed her my card and ran the transaction,
stuffed the card back in my wallet, grabbed my purse and turned to go. I felt
like I had won something more valuable than any tangible prize. I knew my first
name!
“MA’AM! UHHH JENNIFER?” I turned around and looked at her
again.
“YOU FOROT YOUR POOP MEDS!”
BAHAHAHAHAHAHA!! YOU. ARE. AWESOME....
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