Headphones On

All day yesterday I knew I would have to leave the house. I had not been able to sleep through the night before without appropriate medicines... and another evening of sleeplessness loomed before me. As I stared out the window at the winter sky, the world looked dark and foreboding. Eventually, around 9:30 pm I gave in and began the long and arduous trek to the pharmacists. Little did I know the dangers the path before me presented...

I put on my cloak, err coat, and pulled the hood tight over my head. One foot in front of the other I trekked west two blocks and north four blocks. About halfway through I heard a voice in my head declare, "wait... you can go no further without company on this trek"... so I called a friend. As I approached the giant illuminating 'WALGREENS' sign... I noticed something was awry. Giant carts of shopping were blocking the entrance. A little man in a blue vest was directing people OUT of the store, but no one was allowed in. Drats. Time had become my enemy. Walgreens was closed. It was not yet 10 pm but that didn't seem to matter to the blue vested man.

I stood next to a giant statue of a former president and formulated a new plan... onto the grocers, they'll have Nyquil for sure. Mr Lincoln seemed to wish my luck on my voyage... oh if only he knew. From my current location I would have to navigate about 8 blocks south on a diagonal street... weaving through the jubilant pub goers and acoustic guitar strapped youngsters. As I walked and babbled to and fro with my friend, I began to feel my lungs. Apparently lungs are something that I take for granted... because feeling them breathe in and out, is not necessarily a good thing. I slowed my pace to save my strength. I walked past the resident homeless woman with bright pink lipstick and a fur coat. I walked past some new tiny lil rock venue that apparently has booked Urge Overkill for the following evening. I walked past a park, a library, a diner full of people ingesting blueberry pancakes. I walked and walked until before me a glow like salvation itself the magical words "JEWEL" appeared in bright orange. I thanked my friend for the verbal company, hung up the mobile phone and pushed in through the door.

But something was wrong. Was this still a grocery store or the scene of the apolcalyse? Workmen bustled about, construction tarps were flung about like dirty socks and one lost boy at a cash registered bit at his nails in boredom. I walked towards the medicine aisle to discover... it wasn't there. It was replaced with gigantic plastic sheeting hung down from the ceiling and covered in bright yellow striped "DANGER! DANGER! DANGER!" tape. Perplexed I walked around to the other end of the aisle to try and approach from other side. Again, I was faced with "DANGER! DANGER! DANGER!" tape but no medicine. I poked a bustling workman and asked him if I could get some Nyquil. Something indecipherable was mumbled back to me in a foreign tounge.

I tried not to cry as I approached the fingernail biting register boy. "Please sir... can I have some porridge"... err no I said something more along the lines of... "Please, can you go get me a bottle of Nyquil?".
Fingernail boy looked up from his grubby mitts, looked towards the aisle of danger and said "sure, just regular Nyquil?"
"yes...but cherry flavor", I stutter.
Fingernail boy wanders towards the danger zone... as he peels back the plastic I get a glimpse of the horrors that have become the medicine aisle. Large chunks of ceiling appear to have come loose, huge gaping holes have opened into the netherworld of the dark sky, sprinkler systems, electrical wires, the whole thing has become a soppy gigantic hole where workmen must go to die. Fingernail boy turns around and looks at me.... I glare back at him.... he looks back into the pit of despair and turns around to face me saying "No. No, I can't get you any Nyquil. But there is an Osco Drug a few blocks down".

I walk out the door, absolutely dejected. I glance down the street and can vaguely make out some blurriness that could possibly be another drug store. I call back my friend so at least someone can make light of my perilous trek. I can definitely feel my lungs now... and feel each little breathe become harder and harder to grasp. One block, two blocks, three blocks, four blocks... I am now very far from home. A light at the end of the tunnel approaches as I stumble upon the thankfully open pharmacy. I push open the door to salvation and wish adieu to my telephone friend. Aisle upon aisle of life saving exliers await my perusal. I take my time... finding not only cherry flavored Nyquil but bottles of ginger ale, boxes of tissues and other sickly accouterments. There is one open check out girl... and only one woman in front of me as I breathe a sigh of relief. I glance at my watch and notice an hour has gone by since I left the warmth of home.

It was then that I look down at the quite full shopping cart in front of me and notice it's contents... Forty gigantic coffee cups. The woman in front of me has decided to buy the world's ugliest and quite possibly largest coffee cups at 10:45 in the evening. Each one, she insists must be double wrapped in a plastic bag and then stacked in more, larger plastic bags. The check out girl is noticeably upset. Five minutes pass, 10 minutes pass and the transaction is nearly finished when the woman wanders away to find "oh just one more thing"... and returns with five more of these huge mugs. More wrapping, more packing into bags and I throw the now heavy contents of my arms into the check out girl's reach. I pay. I grab my bags and I start the long journey home. My lungs cannot possibly handle the walk, I need alternate transportation. I walk out the door throwing my hood up and glancing at the nearby streets... which direction will I be able to find a taxicab?

I decide on Lincoln Ave and wait at a corner. Five minutes, 10 minutes... My arms and my whole body feel near collapse when a bright yellow cab approaches. I force my right arm up with all the strength I have left and he glides to a stop in front of my feet. I throw myself and my bags into the back of the cab and mumble my address... five minutes later I glance out the window and yell "STOP!" as we drive past my house.

I paid the man, thanked him for the ride and stumble up the three flights of stairs. Home... home again.