The Candyman
I'm standing in line at the Walgreen's, buying yet another padlock. I’m forever leaving them on the bench at the locker room and though there’s always a large collection of padlocks in the lost and found box, none of them are ever mine. So I’m continually replacing them.
I’m also buying a box of condoms.
This is the second time in as many months that I’ve been at this drugstore buying this combination of items. When I get to the teller it’s the same woman who rang up my padlock and box of condoms as last time.
She gives me a dirty look.
‘Oh,’ I say, refusing to be shamed be this half-toothless ashtray of a woman. I grab a bag of taffy from the display and place it on the counter, ‘I'll also take one of these.’
When I get outside, I check my messages. Again. Still nothing.
Chicago hasn’t returned my calls since our last date, which is not that big of a surprise.
But neither has Birmingham, and I have no idea why. Things were cool the last time I saw him, but he hasn’t returned my calls in over a week.
‘Perhaps he’s working on an undercover case,’ I tell myself, even though I know he doesn’t work undercover.
I know that both of them will be the roads less traveled, at least traveled by me.
I pop some taffy in my mouth and think of the toothless drugstore clerk, while dialing Stockholm’s number to confirm our date for tonight.
4 Comments:
4/17/2006
sarah writes:
The dentally challenged are ironically judgemental aren't they?
She probably looks at anyone buying condoms like that...
4/17/2006
Sara and Scott writes:
Maybe she doesn't know what condoms are for? I remember being confused before I knew...
4/18/2006
dan writes:
I think "Padlocks and Condoms" might have to be the name of your autobiography.
4/18/2006
dan writes:
And don't think I didn't notice how you're rubbing the one "L" in Walgreen's in my face.
Post a Comment
Home