People, I’m still sick. Luckily the flu part of my sickness seems to be over, but the migraine still lingers. So I’m home today. Gonna get rid of this thing regardless of a particular boss who swears I’m due an Academy award (he shall go nameless for now). Yesterday afternoon I took a pill upon arriving home at 3:30 p.m. (I’ll tell that story in a minute), but relief from the migraine didn’t occur until about 10 p.m. Stupidly, I forgot to take the second pill (which was due at 10 p.m. anyway), so I woke up this morning with the migraine in full gear. I’m an idiot.
So about my ride home. My doctor appointment was over by 12:15 p.m., so I made my way to Port Authority only to arrive five minutes after the 12:30 p.m. bus. Next bus? 1:40 p.m. What’s a girl to do for an hour at the Port Authority? Well, she goes to Hallmark and gets to new Yankee Candles. She eats a slice of pizza. She buys a small bag of mixed candy to add to the candy jar at home. She finally goes to get in line despite the fact the bus won’t show up for another 20 minutes. There’s only so much time you can kill in the Port Authority that doesn’t require drinking alcohol.
So I get to my car after 2 p.m. and drive to the CVS to fill my handy-dandy prescription for my migraine medication. I slam the door shut and immediately freak out. I’ve just locked my car keys in my car. That’s the first time that’s ever happened to me. I’ve been driving for 20 years, and THIS is the time I lock my keys in my car. A nice hot, bright, sunny, migraine-filled day. I go into the CVS anyway and turn in my prescription. She asks me if I want to wait or come pick up later. “Aw, what the heck – I’ll wait. I’ve got time to kill.” I then hit a payphone, which miraculous has the number for the local police station posted above it. I’m told, “We’ll send an officer out there when we can.”
What does that mean? Ten minutes or two hours? Well, it turned out to be 20 minutes. Twenty minutes in the hot baking sun, waiting for a cop to arrive and shoot me out of my migraine misery. Anyway, the officer finally arrives and begins to work on the lock after checking my license (registration will have to wait as it’s in the car). Fifteen minutes later, we’re still standing outside my car trying to get in. Parking lot pedestrians walk by, staring at me, gawking at the lady who stupidly locked her keys in her car. One guy tried to be helpful and said, “At least you didn’t leave the car running.”
Move along, pappy, you’re not helping me get in my car with your commentary, are you?
A few minutes later he’s about to give up and I’m about to call AAA and see what they can do. “Let me try one more time,” he said, just as stubborn as I am (I was about to grab the stick out of his hand and try it myself). Sure enough. Click! and the door unlocked.
YIPPEE! I grab my keys out of the ignition, lock the door and promptly go back into the CVS to get my medicine. After all, it’s been 50 minutes since I turned it in. Surely it’s ready.
The doc takes one look at me and says, “Oh, you want your medicine?”
She rifles through some envelopes, then announces, “It must not be done yet. It’ll be a few more minutes.”
Not done? In 50 minutes? Like this particular CVS is THAT crowded that she can’t fill my prescription for 20 lousy migraine pills?
I wait five minutes then go back to the prescription counter and tap my foot in a threatening manner. Which didn’t really work since they could only see me from the waist down. But I tapped away anyway. Finally, the menancing toe-tap must have worked, because the assistant scurried over with my prescription and let me sign for it. $7. A regular BARGAIN if the meds work (which they sort of did, as I mentioned in the beginning of this post).
So I get home, do a quick mirror check of my hair, and notice a HUGE chunk of parsley in the middle of my teeth. It’s from the pizza I had THREE HOURS AGO at the Port Authority. And no one bothered telling me. Nice way to end the afternoon, don’t you think?
Well, the baby is crying, and nothing helps a migraine like a screaming, howling, miserable baby. So let me go take care of her.