Confession: all my hormonal exorcisms include Walgreens. I have this weird compulsive affection for Walgreens, like a needy preteen who just wants her crush to notice her. I'm serious. I have a points card. For Walgreens. The eccentricity of this is not lost on me.
Walgreens is there 24/7. Need a prescription refilled? No problem! Any hour of the day, Walgreens has your back. Need somewhere to go at 3 a.m. because your hair looked great today and you can't go home quite yet? Fear not; zoom over to Walgreens and show off your locks!
So, anyway. I'm terribly fond of Walgreens.
A few weeks ago when I was "riding the crimson wave," as Cher Horowitz would so eloquently articulate, I was being a real piece of work. So I did what a girl should never do and called a man. A handsome one, with perfect cheekbones.
"I need you and I need a dirty Diet Coke like yesterday. Also, Walgreens."
"I'll pick you up in 10."
Dirty DC in hand, to Walgreens we dashed!
He followed me around like an obedient little boy as I haphazardly snatched (Essie-approved) items from cosmetics... chocolate....maybe something for my dog?.....a Christmas ornament or two?.....and some super tampons, throwing them at him to carry. He held my box of tampons. Unphased.
There was a moment when I froze in the medication isle and looked at him amidst all the glory of this corner drugstore -- fluorescent lighting, peeling linoleum -- I froze. Cocked my head to the side. He looked oddly content. I'm serious, it was weird. Almost....serene? Is that the right word? Untroubled and relaxed, as if he were watching Storage Wars instead of witnessing the unrefined unleashing of my ability to arbitrarily spend an obscene amount of money at Walgreens in order to assuage the hormone demons (deep breath).
So I guess what I'm trying to say is, well, maybe fluorescent lighting is good for something.