So, I know I’m not supposed to but, when I need to go to a Pharmacy, I go to the enemy. Why am I not supposed to? They don’t use our software. Why do I? Hot. Blonde. Pharmacist. There’s a pharmacy right next to my Doctors but if I take LM to the doctors and need a script, I’m driving for an extra 10 minutes if it means I can stand there imagining walking down the aisle to hot blonde pharmacist. I’m drifting away already. There he is standing in front of me at the altar. Tall, maybe 6ft. Sandy blonde hair. Beautiful green eyes. A cross between Di Caprio and the kid that played Billy Elliot. So handsome with a smile for days and a body… Well… “Do you take this woman? … I do… to bed…” (insert slow romantic kiss that leaves you slightly breathless and…) “Hello again… Can I give you a hand?” Fuck. He really is standing in front of me. I blink and forget how to speak… Like a twat.
My previous visits have always come with a little bit of mild flirtation. If he spots me, he will come out of the dispensary to come and ask me if I need help. Knowing a fair few pharmacists from working in the industry, this is a good sign. Pharmacists hate people and would prefer to hide away in the dispensary before talking to people about their ailments. Firstly, I buy those Glucogel jelly beans you give to diabetics to keep LM amused. It’s worth the 4 hours of pure hyper afterwards. Secondly, he says something quite funny. I giggle like a fucking chipmunk. Thirdly, I say things like “Do you have any of this hand cream?” or “My LM has a little cough, what would you recommend?” They’ve done a recent shop fit so we’ve had heaps to talk about. If it’s quiet, he walks around the shop with me. This time was different. I panicked. Like so badly panicked. I didn’t actually have anything else to use, so I hit him up with an actual pharmacist question, which in hindsight, was a fucking horrendously stupid idea…
“Oh hey, it’s been a while! I, umm… yeah so… I need help with this…” I point to a small dot on my neck. WARNING: SUZI TMI. There’s something weird that happens to you when you are pregnant. You can sometimes get what’s called a skin tag. Sounds gross? Google it. It’s my 1mm little fleshy friend that accompanies me wherever I go. Now, he’s a pharmacist right… He knows about this kind of thing and must get asked all sorts of weird shit every day SO in conclusion, he won’t find this weird at all, right? He recoiled from me in terror… Ever thought about having sex with me, sunshine? NOT ANY MORE!!!!! Haha, not quite. But he did blush. Probably because I’d never asked him to actually help me with anything substantial before. Not only did he not recoil from me, he stepped well into my personal space and leant down close to my face to take a look. Then it was my turn to blush.
Well, he was like a man on a mission. “Hmmm. It’s pretty small. If you really want to get rid of it, we’ll have to figure something out that won’t leave a scar…” Away he went to ask 6 separate people in the pharmacy. Thanks man, the whole world knows about my fleshy friend now. After collating all this information from all these different people and doing some research on the internet, after TWENTY MINUTES he came back and suggested a freeze gun. “Is that going to hurt?” I kinda hoped he’d say he would just do it for me to break the touch barrier but he smiled at me and said “Yeah, it will sting… but no scar. That’s important.” I walked out of the Pharmacy completely baffled at what had just transpired.
So how did I go with the freeze gun? There’s 32 applications available. I’m almost out. I freeze the tip and stand in the mirror with it to my neck and then I do nothing as I think “this is going to sting like fuck. Maybe tomorrow.” I can’t wait to walk back in there to him asking me “how did you go?” and I’m going to have to say, the gun is empty and I still have a skin tag…” My fleshy friend and my own stupidity has ruined any sexy mystic I had. I’m going to be the “skin tag woman.” I should have fucking gone to Chemist Warehouse.