Random Musings

It is 3:30 AM. I am dropping my date back to her place. I stop the car, and said: “out”.

But she refused to budge.

“I need fortwin”, she says.

I told her that while I have no issues with people’s lifestyle regarding painkillers, I am not very keen on being the facilitator for someone’s drug binge. As for me, my father has had a life long addiction to painkillers and alcohol, and I don’t even ever remember talking to him without him being high on some chemical. In fact, his own patients have told him that they prefer him drunk rather than sober. He suffers from clinical depression and when sober he wouldn’t open his mouth and is extremely pensive. Lightly drunk, he is quite jovial and a really interesting personality, so it is little wonder that his patients prefer him drunk.

What I mean is that I avoid drugs or alcohol for the same reason I don’t watch TV or movies. I don’t find the experience pleasurable. If I one day find a chemical that I actually like, I might take it up, but as for now, my reaction to the entire gamut of mind altering substance is a big ‘meh’. I have indeed tried most of them once, but found the experience to be less than enthralling.

She started pleading. “I won’t be able to sleep without it”.

We argued for a while, and finally I realized that I had no choice here, and I took her to the nearest hospital looking for a medical store.

We were a real pair. Between us, I looked as if I was high at that particular time itself on an entire cocktail of drugs, while my date appeared as a sweet, innocent, angelic girl who was just tagging along with me, when the reality was that I am an uncompromising teetotaler who doesn’t even drink beer, while she was a complete psychopath whose hands are visibly bruised due excessive number of needle holes.

Unfortunately, the medical store turned out to be manned by one of those stereotypical schoolmaster types — the kind of guy who play schoolmasters in old movies, the kind of guy on whom the kids would always play successful pranks.

But we were still optimistic. I stood nearby, while she approached to the counter.

“Uncle, I need an injection. It is called F.O.R.T.W.I.N”.

Yeah, that’s right. She spelled out the name of the drug in a valiant attempt to confuse the pharmacist. I couldn’t help laughing out loud. “Come on, are you this stupid?”, I asked. She shushed me. But the damage was already done. After hearing out her wonderful skills at spelling the brand name of a painkiller, the guy didn’t even turn around from what he was doing, and just told us that he didn’t have any stock.

We persisted, and she explained that we have a patient back home, who has broken her leg.. blahblah… But he wouldn’t relent. As I said, the spelling contest had already made up his mind. We continued insisting, and he finally said he would give us fortwin if we go to the hospital and get a prescription for it.

My date gave up, wanted to find another medical store. But I’d be damned if I was going to search around again for yet another Medical store, and so I grabbed her and we went to the hospital, searching for a doctor who would write the prescription. We entered the doctor’s room, and it turned out the doctor had gone out for rounds; there were 2 nurses there in the back of the room. We decided to wait.

It was then that my date completely surprised me by displaying her extraordinary resourcefulness. She nonchalantly tore off 3 pages off the top of the prescription pad that was on the table. I checked on the nurses, but they were behind the curtain and they didn’t raise any objection at all, which made me think that they hadn’t noticed my date’s act.

The doctor comes in, and we explain the situation, but he turns out to be even worse than the pharmacist, and categorically refuses. We decide to leave. That’s when the nurses came forward and intimated the doctor about the stolen prescription. The situation was kind of turning ‘ugly’.

My date denied everything and feigned complete innocence. (I was very close to giving in, since I have no experience with lying, but she turned out to be much more resourceful here too).

But the nurses didn’t buy it, and they started egging the doctor again.

My date kept protesting her innocence, till the doctor started calling for the security.

I dragged her out and we managed to actually get out of the hospital, since the doctor, a thin, geeky guy with glasses, didn’t really have the courage to make a real scene. We got to my car, and then I asked her to drop the prescription papers inside.

The security guard was there standing at the entrance shouting that the doctor wanted us inside. Now that the evidence was inside the car, I decided that I am not going to run away like a common thief, and I very calmly walked back to the hospital. My date was worried, and requested me not to go back. But as I said, I am not a common thief, and I will be damned if I gave some idiots the impression that I ran away when accused of taking 3 sheets out of a prescription pad.

I went past the security, who, strangely didn’t even acknowledge me. It was then that I heard a some kind of commotion inside: the sound of running feet, and then feet thumping on the hollow floor of the elevator, and then the elevator going up. I couldn’t really make out what it was. I continued through the hall and entered the doctor’s office, but it was empty. There was nobody around other than a guy standing on the outside, who tried to appear completely uninterested in the proceedings, and told me that there was no issue, and the doctor no longer needed me. I politely thanked him for the information, and left.

What actually happened was that when they saw me coming back, the nurses and the doctor literally ran into the into the elevator and escaped with their life upstairs.

I went back to my car. My date was relieved to see me returning back. I explained what happened with the hospital staff and how they literally ran for their lives when they saw me returning. She was incredulous at first, but I pointed out there was no other way people would behave when they saw a guy with a ‘god is a fucking idiot’ tattoo returning resolutely back after you accuse him of being a thief.

She turned out to be an expert at writing fake prescriptions too, and we finally got the stuff from a medical store in another hospital.

The moral of the story: Psychopathic girls are much more fun.

This entry was posted on Monday, May 19th, 2008 at 5:51 am and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.