Fuzzy edges
Fuck the cat is cute. I think it's trying to kill me. Melt me from the inside out.
You almost need sunglasses in the pharmacy. Lovely fluorescent bulbs, they've taken over the world. Methodically, I scan as I head to the counter. It would be dire to bump into a colleague here. I put my dollar on the counter. Everyone ignores me. They know the drill. Only the pharmacist can serve me. He must monitor me. Make sure I don't swiftly pour my medicine into another bottle, or hold it in my mouth to 'on-sell'. Ridiculously, this has actually been done before. It's so cheap even on the blackmarket, the whole thing seems silly to me. The pharmacist small-talked as I gulped down the yellow, bitter liquid. I double checked the date as I passed it back. From memory, this was my last dose, I need another appointment to get my script refilled. The 5th of October? Not September? He agreed that it seemed strange. Off he went, professionally typing into the computer. The magic box of answers. He stopped abruptly. Red fled up his neck to darken his face. Quebecois accent stronger than usual. Voice lowered, spoken away from the old people queuing. "Oh Tui, I'm so sorry, I made some error. I give you the dose of the other person!" Pause. "It's twice as much as your dose." I calmed him down, reassured him I would hardly notice it, and I wouldn't 'tell'. Secretly, I was looking forward to it kicking in. And I have to say, I feel so nice right now, my nerve endings tingling with happiness. Maybe methadone isn't so bad.
You almost need sunglasses in the pharmacy. Lovely fluorescent bulbs, they've taken over the world. Methodically, I scan as I head to the counter. It would be dire to bump into a colleague here. I put my dollar on the counter. Everyone ignores me. They know the drill. Only the pharmacist can serve me. He must monitor me. Make sure I don't swiftly pour my medicine into another bottle, or hold it in my mouth to 'on-sell'. Ridiculously, this has actually been done before. It's so cheap even on the blackmarket, the whole thing seems silly to me. The pharmacist small-talked as I gulped down the yellow, bitter liquid. I double checked the date as I passed it back. From memory, this was my last dose, I need another appointment to get my script refilled. The 5th of October? Not September? He agreed that it seemed strange. Off he went, professionally typing into the computer. The magic box of answers. He stopped abruptly. Red fled up his neck to darken his face. Quebecois accent stronger than usual. Voice lowered, spoken away from the old people queuing. "Oh Tui, I'm so sorry, I made some error. I give you the dose of the other person!" Pause. "It's twice as much as your dose." I calmed him down, reassured him I would hardly notice it, and I wouldn't 'tell'. Secretly, I was looking forward to it kicking in. And I have to say, I feel so nice right now, my nerve endings tingling with happiness. Maybe methadone isn't so bad.
posted by tui at 12:11 AM
5 Comments:
Fuck!! That never happens to me!
That is a BIG fuck up...
that's a nice mistake.. too bad it didn't happen more often.. maybe methadone would actually be a bit more useful in those kind of doses.
do be careful though.. overall..
thinking of you,
Michael..
I got a call this afternoon at work, it was the pharmacist from this story. He had lain awake all night, worrying that I was all alone and might never wake up (and the autopsy would reveal I was overdosed and the detective would ask why, and a huge neon arrow would appear over the pharmacists head, and he'd go to jail for ever and ever amen.)
Uh, whoopsie-daisy! Good thing you made it through the night (for both of you).
as ways to die go, that wouldn't have been such a bad one. think, you could've been snorkling somewhere and gotten stabbed through the heart by some poisonous fucking ray. ouchie!
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