Sometimes I Swear but Not Today
I went to the drugstore to pick up prescription eyedrops this afternoon. I wanted to get them before any peaceful protestors start rioting. Only a handful of shoppers were milling about the store, and just one customer was at the pharmacy counter, so I didn’t bother with a mask.
Things were going fine. It took the tech about 5 or 10 minutes to ring up the lady ahead of me. And then, as she turned to leave, she suddenly began burbling goop up from the deepest depths of her lungs and coughing her toxic slurry over the pharmacist and me. After the second or third barrage, she thought to cover her gob and proclaimed, “Oh, you know, I should pick up some DayQuil,” and wandered off to peruse the cold and cough remedies. I did not swear.
After the fact, I attempted to slap on a mask, imagining that a few fewer germs might be at least a little better than more germs, but the elastic strap snapped off my N-is-for-not-helpful N95, rendering it uselessish. I swear, I did not swear.
Next, I paid $450 out-of-pocket for a 3-month supply of Cequa — and that was after health insurance and a manufacturer’s coupon! I did not swear, but I fucking swear.
The moral of this story is that you should probably wear a mask when you go out in public because a great many people don’t even realize they’re gross, greedy, and otherwise egregious.