Drugstore Cowgirl

So, I’m kind of pissed about something, and I know it’s stupid, but I can’t let it go: I have to find a brand new private drugstore, after a twelve-year run at the Walgreens that’s just far enough away from my neighborhood. You know what I’m talking about – you have your regular drugstore where you buy regular stuff like cottonballs and vitamins and lotion and shampoo. The ill-advised beef jerky or off-brand fruit pies. Nail polish. Cheap slippers. They used to develop your photos back in the day. You know a few of the folks working there, you always bump into someone you know in the aisles. ~Regular Drugstore~ But, when you need to buy something private, like, I dunno, say lice shampoo, Imodium *, over the counter birth control, certain types of ladies-only medication, a pregnancy test, a giant container of cheesy poofs, you drive just a tiny bit out of your way to go to the store where your neighbors don’t shop and won’t be all up in your private business. ~Private Drugstore~

A little while back I was headed to the private drugstore, MY private drugstore, to buy some private things. Now, before you tell me to just order them online already, duh, I need you to agree that most of the private things you need to purchase are both private and urgent. I’m not gonna wait for Amazon to deliver that pregnancy test ** or that lice shampoo ***. No ma’am. On the way over I was talking to my mom on the phone and bitching and griping about the nature of the private things I needed to purchase. I parked my car and turned it off, and there right in front of me was a dad that I know from school, soccer, and a mutual friend from 25+ years ago. And I was like, OH NOES! I cannot go in and make my private purchase until he is done shopping. So I stayed on the phone with my mom and he went in and probably didn’t see me, but maybe he did? After like ten minutes I couldn’t wait anymore, so I decided to be brave and go in.

I saw him in one of the aisles, so I ducked around the corner and looked at some chips for a minute and made a grand master plan to wait for him to leave and then get my stuff. Great! Instead, I accidentally ran into him at the end of the next row and he was all Oh, hey, Jen. HI! I’m just here getting, uh, some, stuff, and uh, things! And I was all Oooooh, he is totally 100% using MY private drugstore like it’s his private drugstore! That bastard! But, to cover, I was all Well. *I* am getting stocking stuffers for my kids. See you around!

At first I thought that it would be okay. That it would be super against all odds for us to both show up there at the same time again. And then? Last Monday I needed more private things and so I went back and there I was BASKET FULL OF SUPER PRIVATE THINGS and there was another, different, person whom I know. And I didn’t even play nice, I just turned on my heel, went to the register, and kissed my $80 and my private drugstore goodbye. So now I’m on the lookout for a new private drugstore, one with a not-shitty parking lot that’s close enough to get to when I need something private immediately, but not close enough to run into people I know. I’d ask for some recommendations, but obviously that won’t work this time as it needs to remain my little secret.

* Who am I kidding? I buy the grocery store generic Imodium at my regular grocery store, but maybe you are more refined and delicate than I and want to keep that a private purchase.

** Yes, I’ve had a tubal. Yes, I still freak out that I’m maybe pregnant every once in awhile.

*** Shit DOES NOT WORK. Do this olive oil thing instead and get a Robi Comb at your very own private drugstore.

2 thoughts on “Drugstore Cowgirl

    1. jenijen Post author

      Really? You’ve never, like, purposefully swung into a different place than where you usually shop to get something, well, private? ha!


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