I Seem To Be Having A Medicine Aisle Standoff
May 9th, 2006
There are many standoffs.
There’s the ones where you and your doppleganger each have a gun and you’re pointing it at each other and yelling to a third party with an even bigger gun that “he’s the fake” and no “I’m not the fake” and so on and so on until eventually the standoff ends and someone is dead. There’s the typical Western high noon standoff where two cowboys are separated by a distance, on a dusty road, trigger fingers hovering over their belted-guns.
And then there’s medicine aisle standoffs.
I’m not quite sure when I subconsciously decided that I didn’t want the rest of the public to know what kind of medicine I was taking. I’m not quite sure when it turned from a tiny piece of information into something huge I felt extremely protective of. I know there was a time when I was fine letting people see me pick up a pack of Tylenol or a bottle of Pepto… But somewhere in between picking up a bottle of Nyquil and Gas-X I found myself becoming extremely protective of my personal medicine purchasing history becoming public.
And then came the standoff.
A medicine aisle standoff occurs when I am standing in the medicine aisle of a drugstore or supermarket and I am casually standing in front of the medicine section that contains the medicine I know I need to buy. Perhaps I am even wavering, light-headed, dizzy or completely congested as I am standing there…knowing that relief can be accomplished if I can just reach out and pluck my chemical savior from the shelf in front of me.
Of course, I could do that if you weren’t ALSO standing in the aisle taking your sweet time.
As a result I must stand there, pretending to read ingredients off boxes of things that I do not plan to buy, just to throw you off the scent. I must be able to look in front of me while not really looking in front of me just so I can fool you and the rest of you medicine aisle hoverers from realizing that I am really looking out the corners of my eyes…waiting for the moment when I am the only person in this aisle. Waiting for the moment when no one can see what I am grabbing.
Waiting for the moment when my medicine is my business.
The worst case scenario, of course, is the triple medicine aisle standoff in which three people find themselves pretending to stare at medicine on the shelves…all waiting for the other two people to take their medicine and leave the aisle so the final person may take their medicine without ever being seen. This is, as you can imagine, an extremely stressful situation. Who will break first? Who will reach out for that non-descript cream? Who can handle the public knowledge? It’s often like one of those Survivor challenges — everyone sick and dizzy and holding onto the shelves to keep themselves from falling but refusing to grab…that…medicine…until… Well, you know.
In a three-way medicine aisle standoff, you’ve got to be clever enough to make things work to your advantage.
That’s why I love to cough. Loudly.
There’s always a sick person standing in the medicine aisle. I mean, why else would they be there otherwise? And each person is already there with the hopes of nipping their sickness and returning to the land of clear nasal passageways and uncongested heads. So the minute they realize they’re standing in the aisle with an open-mouth cougher…well, they’re going to go to the dairy section first and then come back when the coast is clear.
I like to cough loudly then whisper something loud enough for everyone to hear like “oh my God” or “ugggghhh” or “is that blood?” Usually by vocalizing the physical and mental pain that comes along with my sickness I can get at least one of the other two hoverers to quickly move along to another part of the store. But then that often leaves me with a single dedicated competitor, who refuses to let my sickness distract them from their ultimate goal of being the last man standing in this highly-competitive medicine aisle standoff.
I’ve been known now and again to fake a fainting spell and say in a raspy voice, “please, go get hellllllp.”
Eighty-five percent of the time that’ll get my competitor to leave the aisle so I can select my medicine in privacy. Fifteen percent of the time the other person will secretly hope that I will faint and fall to the shiny polished supermarket floor, thus giving them the thirty seconds they need to pluck that embarrassing box of you-know-what off the shelf and escape before anyone else can see.
I could be that “wait until they faint and snag my medicine” kind of medicine aisle standoffer.
But if it’s me who faints, having spent too much time waiting and waiting for the coast to become clear — know this and know this well. I would much rather be whisked away on a gurney by the emergency workers who are speeding me away to the hospital and have everyone see it happen than let you or your family see what I’m pulling off the shelf.
Because my medicine is my business…and if a standoff is the only way to reach my goal, then so be it.
I have no comment.
Comment by Syd — May 9, 2006 @ 8:16 am
Neither do I.
Comment by Pauly D — May 9, 2006 @ 8:18 am
Eerily similar to my cereal aisle standoff, wherein I read the side panel of Total Raisin Bran until the attractive female to my left leaves so I can purchase the Cap’n Crunch I really want.
Comment by Dan — May 9, 2006 @ 9:33 am
I can understand your need for the medicine aisle standoff. People are so NOSEY. Not only are they going to check out what you’re buying, but they’ll make a subsequent judgment about you as well.
Yesterday the old man in front of me at the supermarket purposely made eye contact so he could remark about the two items I was buying (a six-pack of beer and a half gallon of milk), “This one for the mom and this one for the baby.”
Since I don’t drink beer NOR do I have a baby, maybe I should have fainted to make him feel guilty. Or make him go away. Either works for me.
Comment by Rabbit — May 9, 2006 @ 10:05 am
Advice - I make all of my sensitive medicine aisle purchases several towns over in a big anonymous WalMart.
Rabbit - to the supermarket comment you shoulda said: “Oh, no, the BEER is for the baby so he’ll leave me alone and let me eat a bowl of cereal and milk.”
Comment by Susan — May 9, 2006 @ 10:14 am
I don’t have that problem in the medicine aisle, but have a huge problem standing in line with my medicine. I don’t want the friggin’ cashier to know about my ailments (not to mention, the random guy/girl behind me in line!). I think there should be some sort of protective covering — a la Danielsan’s shower curtain in The Karate Kid — which medicine purchasers could wear while in the store. Is that so much to ask?
Comment by sandra — May 9, 2006 @ 10:55 am
What about the greeting card aisle standoff? I definitely don’t want anyone to see me picking up the birthday card with the fart joke on it.
Comment by Kat — May 9, 2006 @ 11:30 am
Kat - Be honest, now. You get your greeting cards at the car wash.
Comment by Pauly D — May 9, 2006 @ 11:36 am
there’s alot of items I hate purchasing, which is why I now use the self-checkout option. We females often have to buy things alot more personal than medicine (think: Super-long with wings or extra-absorbency or feminine wash) The other day I bought a box of Clairol Sun Lite Blonde and recieved a knowing smirk from the tow-headed child checking me out. Yes I lighten my hair dammit, but I don’t want everyone knowing it.
So, my advice—self-checkout, if your store has that option. If not, let’s hope they do get it soon. It’s the best idea EVER.
Comment by shannon — May 9, 2006 @ 12:47 pm
Shannon - The only trouble with those self check-out stations is that you often get one of those female voices telling you, “please put the product in the bag” over and over again because the scales are off. And that’s annoying. But not as annoying as a malfunctioning one that may say “super-long with wings” over and over and over again.
Comment by Pauly D — May 9, 2006 @ 12:52 pm
Maybe you are more worried about it now that your fame is growing. You secretly fear seeing your face plastered on the cover of US magazine with some smutty headline that I’m just to nice to even think up right now.
Or maybe you are worried that Seth Green will get his revenge and post something on his blog about seeing you in the medicine aisle at least it’s not MAKEUP Seth
I have never cared about people with me in the medicine aisle… now the “family planning section” as our local RiteAid calls it… theirs is right out in the open in front of the pharmacy. I had a cashier announce to me when I was standing in line with a box of condoms, “Don’t be ashamed (never said I was….) You should be proud that you are practicing safe sex”
And oh… that “is that blood” comment would send me running for the hills (but not before submitting the story to US magazine
Comment by Jacquie — May 9, 2006 @ 1:31 pm
Yeah, the electronic “please put your items in the bag” voice IS very annoying. But it’s still a relatively new concept so if they could work out the kinks, I’m sure it will be awesome. Of course, it does defeat the whole purpose of self-checkout-to-avoid-snooping-checkout-person when the blasted self-checkout computer malfunctions so badly that a live cashier has to come over to assist the moron (ME) that failed to properly use the thing.
Comment by shannon — May 9, 2006 @ 2:09 pm
Medicine standoffs are completely foriegn to me. You know how I feel about Advil. But I would like to second Dan’s comment about the cold cereal.
Comment by Janet — May 9, 2006 @ 2:09 pm
Hmm, that kind of thing has never actually bothered me in the past… but now I’m sure I’ll be extra conscious of it, so thanks for that
Comment by Bre — May 9, 2006 @ 2:56 pm
Sounds just like me! Except with me, it’s more of the feminine care/makeup aisles. *^_^;*
Comment by Anne — May 9, 2006 @ 5:55 pm
so, were you buying condoms or tampax?
Comment by better safe than sorry — May 9, 2006 @ 6:25 pm
You know, I love to stand at the pharmacy filling my mood-altering drug prescriptions and check out what others are getting. The dialog in my head sounds like this:
“Oooh, Percacet. Do you think they would notice if I grabbed the bottle?”
“Oh yeah, Cymbalta. They have depression that hurts. Bummer for them.”
“Viagra. Who is THAT loser?”
But then, the people are looking at my bottles and saying exactly the same thing.
Comment by Lianne — May 9, 2006 @ 6:32 pm
Every time I buy a medicene that needs to be given to me by a druggest that is not sold off the shelf, I cough. I cough very loudly in fact so he/she thinks I have a cold, thus justifing the purchase. I’m a moron.
Comment by Joan — May 10, 2006 @ 11:21 am
Haha! Tampons, thank you very much.
Comment by Anne — May 10, 2006 @ 1:17 pm
I think people should just mind their own business in general.
Like when I pick up my birth control prescription, and there’s no ring on my left ring finger, don’t look at me with that judgemental look in your eyes — maybe I’m not promiscuous as you suspect (’cause if so, I should be buying condoms); maybe I just need the hormonal regulation so I don’t go around killing people like you who look at me the wrong way; or maybe my ring is simply at the jeweler being cleaned.
Or when I have a bad day, the kind that only Ben & Jerry’s Peanut Butter Cup can fix, don’t look at me and think to yourself “poor, depressed, lonely girl” — maybe it’s not even for me; or maybe I’m on a weight-gain diet for a big movie role.
Clearly, though, I have issues and care far too much about what others think of me.
Comment by Nicole — May 10, 2006 @ 4:47 pm