… because my pharmacist is *fans face* fucking swoon worthy. I get the vapours. Seriously. Vapourtastic vapours.
So I figure I need about 10x more prescriptions so I can justify spending more time hanging out in those waiting chairs surreptitiously staring at him. Hopefully something that doesn’t suck too horribly, even better if I get prescribed something that makes me feel smooshy." --
And so, as time has passed, I apparently was heard by the powers that be (above? below? fate?) and have been diagnosed with "sick" of a semi-benign sort, and while I do not have 10x prescriptions, I do have more (not to mention I feel like the thrall of a fucking vampire, they keep taking my bloods and that ain't kosher! and once my pee ... and that is gross, and hard to do on command!), and this did indeed lead me to being in the pharmacy, and I hung out in those waiting chairs, and tried to hide what surely was interesting propping up of my pants in a delicate area. Then he called me up, I honestly was kinda nervous, I had the fucking VAPOURS I tell ya! I just wanted to bask in all the pharmacistical (that isn't a word and I am ok with that) glory, and like a bolt from the blue I remembered that people ask pharmacists about side effects and that sort of thing. And yes, my doctor had already gone over them, but this was a whole different thing ...
And we got to talking. I felt like a kid when it was time to do speeches in school, or like I was on a rollercoaster that was chugging up the first hill. But I was calmed by the radiating pharma-glory, and rapidly he went from side effects to random conversation about the nature of intelligence and Hemingway quotes (bonus obsessive-points of fate sign variety, my WoW toon is named Hemingway ... IT WAS MEANT TO BEEEEEE *swoon/drool/babble/fap*). I was lulled somehow by harmonious buzz of synchronicity or something, because then we were talking about muscle cars and motorbikes.
It took good while before the intoxicating dream haze lifted from me.
