~ Desperate House Dad ~

by

Scott Tenkman

We make it inside the pharmacy and I just know this is going to be a struggle since my BOT is now bone dry. I walk up to the counter and I notice that there is a sign on one end of the counter that says, “Pick Up,” and one at the other end of the counter that says, “Drop Off .” I also notice that there is nobody waiting in line, and only one lady working the counter, who happens to be standing by the “Pick Up” sign, so I walk up to her.

“Can I help you, sir?” she asks.

“Yes, I have to drop off this prescription for my son,” I said as I try to hand her the prescription.

“Sir, this is the Pick Up line, so could you please take that to the Drop Off line please?” she asks.

Wow, she is a stickler for the rules, so I move my cart down to the end of the counter near the “Drop Off” sign, and if you can believe it, she walks down to the “Drop Off” sign and asks, “Can I help you sir?”

I almost lost it, “You’ve got to be kidding me. We just talked two seconds ago! Have you completely lost conception of reality? What is it, the fact that you sit up higher than everyone in the Pharmacy that you think you’re superior?”

She doesn’t even blink and eye and says, “Sir, if you are dropping off a prescription, it needs to go here. Pick ups are over there. So can I have the prescription now?”

I wanted to go off some more, but thought better of it. Rule number one: Never tick off the pharmacist or they will make your life a living hell. So I hand her the prescription and off I go through the store, trying to keep the kids happy.

Since I know we’ll be waiting a while, I decide to take out my cell phone and call Jenny at work to let her know what’s going on. After I’d told her about Mike’s ear infection and the fact that we are at the pharmacy waiting on Mike’s prescription to get ready, she says, “Since you’re at the pharmacy, can you pick up some condoms? We ran out when we did it last month.”

“So, you do remember when we did it last month?” I say sarcastically.

“Yep, it was the best two minutes of my life,” says my wife, now cracking up with laughter.

After her laughter finally subsides and I pick my ego back up off the floor, she asks, “So, you’re going to pick some up, right?”

I let out a huge sigh because I hate buying condoms, which is why I usually let Jenny buy them. Whenever I buy them I always feel people are staring at me, as if they are saying, “Yeah right. Now what woman in their right mind is going to have sex with you?”

I try to stall, “Honey, can’t you just pick them up the next time you’re at the grocery?”

“You need to get over this condom phobia you have, because I am sick of buying them. Do you want another child right now?” she asks as I quickly look down to find Steve picking up a Gummy Bear off the pharmacy floor and putting it in his mouth.

“Good point,” I said, “but I just don’t feel comfortable buying them.”

“Well, how do you think I feel?” Jenny snaps right back. “Every time I buy them I feel like a hooker.”

I can tell that I’m not going to win this argument, so I said, “Okay, Honey, I’ll pick up a box,” as I said goodbye and head for the condom aisle. Besides, it’s the middle of the day, so who am I going to run into?

Unfortunately the condom aisle is right by the pharmacy, so the Pharmacist can look down on me in shame as I try to decide between the thousand different types of condoms available: For Her Pleasure, For His Pleasure, Shared Pleasure, Warm Sensations, etc. Do I really care about her pleasure? I think to myself as I study the various brands. Seems each type comes in regular and jumbo size, so I naturally pick up the jumbo packs. Then I look up because I have a feeling that someone is staring at me, and to my surprise the Pharmacist is staring at me as she shakes her head, as if saying, “I don’t think so.”

How does she know I’m not a jumbo? I thought to myself as I put the jumbo pack back and picked up the regular Shared Pleasure pack. I then look at the Pharmacist and notice that she has a smirk on her face as she nods her head in agreement. Has she been talking to my wife? I thought to myself.

Not only do I have to pick out what type of condom to buy, I now have to decide how many to buy. Looks like they come in 12 and 36-packs, with the 12-pack going for $6.99 and the 36-pack going for $19.99, so the 36-pack is a better deal. So I pick up the 36-pack, and to my dismay, I find out that it has an expiration date on it of four years from now. Wow, I had no idea condoms could expire, and this may just influence my decision. So I stand there, trying to calculate how much sex we would have to have to get our money’s worth for each pack. If I buy the 36 pack, that means we have to have sex once every 1.3 months. I’m not sure I can handle that much sex, so I calculate that if I bought the 12-pack we would have to have sex once every 4 months, which is more up my alley, so I decide to buy the regular sized 12-pack of Shared Pleasure.

After walking about ten miles up and down every aisle, and pulling lots of snacks off the shelves to feed the kids, I finally hear over the intercom, “Mike Logan! Prescription for Mike Logan is ready!” I hurry up to the counter, but this time I go to the “Pick Up” sign or else I will feel the wrath of a Pharmacist with a superiority complex.

On my way to the checkout line I walk by the beer aisle. Since I took the Man Oath when I was younger, and it specifically says that a man shall not pass a beer aisle without making a purchase, I had to pick up some beer or I would be kicked out of the Man Club, so I decide to pick up a case while I’m here. And since I have been picking up snacks in the aisles for the boys, I now have to go wait in line to pay for the snacks, condoms, beer, and drugs for Mike, which is a very odd combination.

The thing with my kids is that they, like most youngsters, pick up on things we say and repeat them at the most inopportune times. So we are waiting in line to pay, and the lady ahead of us is taking forever as she tries to find her 500 coupons, so Steve blurts out, “What the hell is taking so long?”

I don’t know whether to laugh out loud or scold him, but from the looks the lady and cashier give me, I decide to scold him, “Steve, that’s not a nice thing to say.” I then turn to the lady and cashier to apologize, “I’m sorry about that. It’s amazing the things kids pick up while watching Barney.”

Then I hear a familiar voice behind me in line that says, “Hello Paul. It was nice to see you last Sunday at mass.” I turn around in horror as I finally recognize the voice: it’s Father Jim! How am I going to hide the fact that I’m buying condoms and beer?

“Hi Father. Great homily last Sunday,” I said, all the while trying to think of what his homily was about and a way out of this situation. Father then goes up to the boys and gives them a pat on the back and a high five.

Little beads of sweat started to appear on my forehead as my items slowly make their way to the cashier, and I can tell that Father is starting to think something’s up as I try to make small talk with him.

“I really loved the way the chorus incorporated the Triangle in mass last Sunday because you just don’t see people playing the Triangle anymore,” I said, obviously grasping for straws.

Father Jim says, “So, what brings you to the pharmacy today?”

I reply, “Well, I needed to pick up a prescription for Mike’s ear infection, and I just picked up a couple of small items since I’m here.” Sweat is now dripping down my face as I wished the cashier would hurry the heck up.

To my dismay, the cashier says, “Sir, I think this price is wrong,” as she points to the box of condoms. Then, before I can utter a word, the cashier grabs the microphone and asks, “Hey Sam, can I get a price check on a 12-pack of Shared Pleasure Condoms?”

The blood has now completely drained from my face as I turn around to face Father Jim in complete shame, trying to think of something to say. Father Jim just has a little smile on his face, so I said, “Father, I apologize, but my wife and I tried the Catholic birth control methods. We tried both the body temperature and mucus methods, and little Steve here is the result. I mean, come one, who can analyze a woman’s mucus? You have to be a member of CSI to do that, and we just don’t want to take the chance.” Did I just talk about my wife’s mucus with our priest?

Father Jim replies, “That’s okay, Paul, I understand. Did you know that we have Confessional an hour before Sunday mass?”

I can take a hint, so I said, “Sure, I’ll see you there,” as I turn back around in shame to face the cashier.

Then, out of nowhere, Sam finally replies to the cashier over the intercom system and says, “What sized condoms?” Then, as if on cue, it seems like the entire pharmacy comes to a standstill as everyone listens to find out my penis size.

“Regular!” the cashier says clear as day into the microphone. I hear a few snickers, and a couple of guys just shake there heads at me and laugh. I knew I should have bought the jumbos! I thought to myself.

Sam then replies into the microphone, “The jumbos are on sale, but not the regular sized ones.”

Great, I thought to myself, not only do the guys with the big packages get all the women, they also get cheaper condoms! So I finally get to pay the cashier and we head out the door as I told Father Jim that we would see him on Sunday, so the ordeal is finally over. Or so I thought.