Wednesday night (really, Thursday morning as it was after midnight), I left the 24 hour walk-in clinic, clinging to a prescription for an antibiotic in my gloved hand as the cold wind whipped around me. The doctor at the clinic had guided me to a 24 hour pharmacy that was an avenue west and a block north of the clinic. (Gotta love New York City!) As I walked over, I prayed that the wait would not be too long.
At the pharmacy, it took me a few minutes to get the pharmacist's attention. He told me that he was finishing a prescription for some other people, so it would be about 25 minutes. Said other people were waiting on the only two chairs available, so I plopped myself down on the floor in front of a display of reading glasses.
Not only was I exhausted, but I was also a little bit hungry. I didn't finish the tuna sandwich I had purchased for dinner, so I pulled the remaining half out of my bag and chowed down. It's been taking me an extra long time to eat because I am so stuffed up that I cannot chew and breathe at the same time. As I gasped between bites, it occurred to me that I looked like a deranged homeless person. I was wearing my hat, hood, and scarf, sitting on the floor of a CVS in the middle of the night,snot dripping down my face, coughing, eating a tuna sandwich as if everyone eats tuna sandwiches on the floor of CVS at 12:30 AM.
Fortunately, no one said anything to me about it, and the couple waiting for their prescription moved away from the chairs after a few minutes so he could verbally abuse her without me witnessing it, but that's another story. Man, that was one crazy night.
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