Why I Didn’t Want to Touch Their Stuff





I worked at Thrifty’s Drug Store for exactly two days when I was about 17 years old.  It’s gone now, bought out by a larger retailer. They had the very best ice cream and when I was a child it was a nickle a scoop. Mom could afford to buy my brother and I triple cones after swim class.

Working there was another matter. Thrifty’s had the old fashioned cash resister where you had to push the buttons of each one to the cent. Quite a pain and a bit like old typewriters.  We got the elderly (anyone over forty at my age back then) that came in with the sale portion of the newspaper. They would buy 40 cans of Pork ‘n Beans because they were offered at a reduced price. On top of that, they took the bus, so I had to distribute the weight of each bag evenly. It didn’t matter that there were still 12 people in line. Or they bought glasses on sale and wanted each one wrapped in paper before I bagged them. Ugh! These people were so annoying! 

Then IT happened. Another elderly lady, probably exactly forty years old,  put her stuff down. It consisted of an enema, a douche, K-Y jelly, maxi-pads, hemorrhoid cream, tampons, and Playboy magazine. I looked at the stuff then looked at her. I couldn’t bring myself to touch her items. “Who buys all this stuff at one time?” I thought. “Shouldn’t she divide this up over time or get some of it elsewhere?”

I eventually wrung it up and jammed it in a bag. I think I was the embarrassed party. Later in life, my friends and I would go into drug stores and just pretend to buy K-Y and knitting needles just to see the clerks reaction. 


About Cynthia

I'm a little crazy but who isn't? I enjoy writing about my many odd experiences and my perception is really altered by time, age, and drugs. Not really but it sounds cool. I'm from Los Angeles and moved to North Carolina. I don't like culture shock but it happens anyway.
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