For years I wrote an anonymous blog called Clergy Guy. Here’s an entry from October 17, 2009 that some folks found amusing:
So I’m doing my part to keep the population stabilized. I decide to zip into the local pharmacy, on a search and retrieve mission. On my way to the designated aisle, I pick up a bag of candy bars to provide cover for the targeted package. Both packages are cradled in one arm and I’m headed for the check out like a wide receiver going for the goal, when a lady from my church rounds the corner of the aisle.
When I say lady, I mean it. She’s not one of these grim church women who might not actually know what a condom is. She’s just past middle age and a really classy person. I like her and I don’t want her to see me lugging an economy sized box of extra thin, lubricated prophylactics.
Before she recognizes me, I dive for a bin full of Halloween masks. She makes eye contact just as I’m burying my potential purchase underneath an item that is also made of latex. But it’s not covered completely and I pray (since I’m so religious at that time) that she doesn’t look too closely at what I’m trying to conceal.
We visit for a moment before we go our separate ways. If she saw, she doesn’t mention it because as I said, she’s classy.
I get to the checkout stand. Now, when a guy rings up these kinds of purchases, he usually moves with dispatch to place it in the bag. But not this lady. She picks up the box of condoms and, I’m not kidding, she holds them close to her ample bosom while she taps in the code. And she’s chatty.
“It’s mighty warm today, isn’t it sir?”
“I see someone is indulging his sweet tooth.”
“Beg your pardon?” Oh, she meant the candy bars.
Finally, I’m out the door and safe in my car.
As I leave the parking lot, I notice a drive through window where people can pick up their prescriptions. Couldn’t a fellow buy his condoms there as well?
But no, with my luck it wouldn’t work out.
First, I don’t want to be hollering my order at a friendly plastic pharmacist that repeats my order at maximum volume. He probably wouldn’t ask if I wanted fries with that order, but I could imagine what he might say.
“We have a special where you can buy the package with four different flavors.”
“Just the plain version.”
“You mean vanilla–that’s our most popular.”
“I mean no flavors please.”
“Would you like the combo that comes with personal lubricant and a two liter bottle of soda?”
“Do you want to supersize that order, sir?”
“No… Well, maybe… I mean no.”
“That comes to $29.99, you can pick it up at the second window. Thank you and have a REALLY nice evening.” The plastic pharmacist would give a mechanical wink.
Next time I’ll pick these babies up when I’m out of town making a liquor run.