If you’ve been following me at all, you know I haven’t had the best of luck lately. Big things and small have gone wrong---all the way down to my intake date for a prison stint being delayed even though I’m prepared to go. Last night I was sure I had a fuck buddy lined up for a visit, only to discover she had a change of heart--- right after I ate my last viagra! Well, today may be the beginning of my changing luck!
I’ve had an annoying cough over the past month or so, and I’ve been putting off going to the doctor, assuming it will pass. Even when I had health insurance I was reluctant to make an office visit, just because. Today I finally gave in, and all of the lights down a busy street to the “Doc-in-the-Box” turned green for me, against all odds. I was examined and questioned by the nurse practitioner on duty, but she decided my symptoms called for a chest x-ray more than simply an anti-biotic and some cough medicine. This isn’t the good news though, the kicker was she didn’t charge me a dime for the fifteen minute exam!
She explained that my money would be better spent with my physician and a chest x-ray, and then if it was in fact an infection that pills can cure, well, no hard done. So here’s the other good luck, (assuming I don’t have lung cancer, of course: my chest x-ray is going to be free, courtesy of the North Carolina DOC! I may in fact be benefiting from the War on Drugs in a most peculiar way.
Ever since my arrest, I’ve been wondering why it happened as it did. Why was my life brought to a dead halt when all I was doing was spreading joy, (MDMA), and helping out a friend in need, (the guy who ratted me out.)? Sure being apprehended allowed me to check my painkiller addiction, and the way things were going I might have been busted on far more serious charges down the road. Good breaks there, but there had to be more. Certainly it wasn’t the crazy chick who unceremoniously dumped me days after professing her love for me, right? So now maybe this is it: free medical care!
Anyway, after I left the nurse place I was off to get a Cialis prescription filled. I had been putting this off due to a lack of funds, but now I had at least another week of work income, so I could at least get half the script. I asked the girl behind the counter if it was possible to get only five pills instead of ten, and the pharmacist behind her answered for her.
“Depends on what the prescription is for.”, she sneered.
“CIALIS!”, I nearly shouted, just to fuck with her.
“Oh, you can get however many you want of those.”, she replied.
I told the cashier I only needed five, and after looking at me like I was a malnourished puppy, she told me they would be ready in a few minutes. I had a seat next to an older woman who possibly scooched the other direction, but that may have just been my imagination.
Soon enough yet another pharmacy person, this time a gay man, announced that my prescription was ready. As he was ringing me up he muttered a question about whether I’d been told this item is “a little pricey”, and right about then the price came up on the read-out: $139.64, for five fucking pills!
I quickly pointed out that no, I had no idea this magic came with such a high sticker price, and voided the sale entirely. More accurately, I believe I said: “By my math, that’s almost thirty dollars per erection, and that’s not even counting the cost of the hookers!” The sneering pharmacist behind him sneered harder, which I assumed meant she wanted me to wink at her, so I did. I think this endeared me to the gay employee, and he told me to hold on a minute---he was going to see about something.
I couldn’t imagine what sort of magic this guy could pull, but I had my smart phone to read a Wall Street Journal editorial about Romney needing to push a flat tax, so what did I care? Five minutes later the fellow reemerged and said: “here are some manufacturer coupons for Cialis samples, and if you simply sign here I’ll give you three pills at no charge.”
“Well thank you, sir!”, I beamed, “and rest assured my next lover thanks you too!”, I said more boisterously, so Ms. Sneer could hear.
He grinned, but something tells he’s heard all of the hard-on pill jokes under the sun. After all, the whole transaction is just awkward, and would-be comics by the dozens probably break the tension with bad puns and what-not. I mean, I imagine when anyone nearby hears a guy procuring erection medication, they picture them punching their half-dog in frustration as their revved-up lover looks over their shoulder with great concern. Or something like that. Perhaps I’ve shared too much...
The point is it’s not every day when you get a free medical exam, (my blood pressure is exquisite, btw), and make a purchase where they say: “that’ll be $140.” to “ it’’s free”, in five minutes time. Sure I might have lung cancer, but I’m taking any victory I can at this point.
Check back soon for: “Just How Broke Are You, Anyway?”
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