The thing with T is, you never know what’s coming out of her mouth. Truly, you have no idea. SHE doesn’t even have any idea, until it’s to late.
It was around 4 or 5 in the afternoon; everyone had gone home, and T and I were closing together. I was in the middle of counting an order when one of our regular customers walked in. He needed some prescriptions refilled and T was happy to do it.
It wasn’t out of the ordinary for T to strike up a conversation, which is normally your first red flag. I wasn’t following the conversation closely but somehow, they got on the topic of cream cheese.
I had one prescription left to count, I only needed 90 pills. I tried to block the conversation out in order to count it right the first time and not have to redo it; but as that conversation went on--
The patient stated how much he loved cream cheese, what food items he’d eat it on and so forth. T stated how much she loved cream cheese and what food items she ate cream cheese on. At one point, I realized we all really needed a life if this was the highlight of our conversation. Then things went south, quickly.
“I even eat it on crackers,” T told him.
“I think I’d eat it on anything,” the man responded.
“Yeah I know,” T said.
Without a second thought she said, “You know, I think I’d eat a turd if it had cream cheese on it.”
God help me.
The man paused. I lost count. I didn’t even know why I tried anymore. I really didn’t want to look up, but I knew I had to. When I slowly raised my head, the man was staring at T, kind of stumped. I glanced quickly at T, it hadn’t hit her yet what she had said. I looked back at the man just as he let out a long drawn, uh.
“I don’t think I’d do that,” he said after a moment.
He seemed somewhat confused at how the conversation ended up the where it did. Unfortunately, this wasn’t my trip down the rabbit hole.
“You know,” T said after a few seconds, “I wouldn’t either. That’s a bad idea.”
Everyone kind of laughed awkwardly and after a moment he left. I looked over at her. My face. Oh, my face.
“I know,” T said, tossing her hands in the air, “I have no idea why I said that.”
I emptied the counting tray and began to count again.
Never a dull, always an uncomfortable, moment with T.
It was around 4 or 5 in the afternoon; everyone had gone home, and T and I were closing together. I was in the middle of counting an order when one of our regular customers walked in. He needed some prescriptions refilled and T was happy to do it.
It wasn’t out of the ordinary for T to strike up a conversation, which is normally your first red flag. I wasn’t following the conversation closely but somehow, they got on the topic of cream cheese.
I had one prescription left to count, I only needed 90 pills. I tried to block the conversation out in order to count it right the first time and not have to redo it; but as that conversation went on--
The patient stated how much he loved cream cheese, what food items he’d eat it on and so forth. T stated how much she loved cream cheese and what food items she ate cream cheese on. At one point, I realized we all really needed a life if this was the highlight of our conversation. Then things went south, quickly.
“I even eat it on crackers,” T told him.
“I think I’d eat it on anything,” the man responded.
“Yeah I know,” T said.
Without a second thought she said, “You know, I think I’d eat a turd if it had cream cheese on it.”
God help me.
The man paused. I lost count. I didn’t even know why I tried anymore. I really didn’t want to look up, but I knew I had to. When I slowly raised my head, the man was staring at T, kind of stumped. I glanced quickly at T, it hadn’t hit her yet what she had said. I looked back at the man just as he let out a long drawn, uh.
“I don’t think I’d do that,” he said after a moment.
He seemed somewhat confused at how the conversation ended up the where it did. Unfortunately, this wasn’t my trip down the rabbit hole.
“You know,” T said after a few seconds, “I wouldn’t either. That’s a bad idea.”
Everyone kind of laughed awkwardly and after a moment he left. I looked over at her. My face. Oh, my face.
“I know,” T said, tossing her hands in the air, “I have no idea why I said that.”
I emptied the counting tray and began to count again.
Never a dull, always an uncomfortable, moment with T.
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