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Friday 14th September 2018

5769/18789

I am not saying I am old, but I went into Boots this morning to get a flu jab. If I was really old I’d be getting it for nothing, to be fair. But it cost me about £11.50 (because I’d booked online I got a discount) plus I got 44 Boots points, so it was practically free.
Someone on Twitter had made a good point about the relatively small cost of protecting yourself against flu, versus the time lost, which is an especial disaster for the self-employed who don’t get sick pay. But also I thought it might be a fun adventure.
And if your idea of a fun adventure is sitting in a cupboard with a Boots employee whilst they scratch you and then sit looking at you for five minutes to check you are not having adverse side affects, then it is an adventure. If your idea of an adventure is not that, then maybe go up the Amazon or something. I am not judging you, so stop judging me. To me this experience had â€œbrilliant blog” written all over it. Again, not interested in your opinion. Write your own blog about going up the Amazon and see how many people read that. It’ll probably be loads. That sounds amazing thinking about it.
I had to fill in a form to check that I wasn’t allergic to eggs (I suppose there is some connection between birds and flu that might make that dangerous - it’s the dinosaurs’ revenge) and then the man gave me the rest of the leaflet back to read at my leisure. He noticed that something had been written on the form in pen, presumably by a colleague at the pharmacy counter who had been unable to find another piece of paper. He crossed it out quite vociferously, making sure it was obliterated completely so I couldn’t read it.  But what was it that had caused him to so fastidiously eliminate it from existence. I guess we’d never know?
Except I had already seen what was written there when I’d been filling in the form. It said â€œMorning after.” Which in the context of a chemists can mean only one thing. The obliteration of a potential life after a drunken one night stand. That is ALL it could mean. So no wonder he looked embarrassed. His shop was frequented by whores.
It’s amazing the power of embarrassment that two words innocuous words can create. And he sheepishly apologised saying, â€œSorry, there was something written there.”
And I smiled and said it didn’t matter, in a way that made it very clear that his attempt to cover up the Boots whore service had failed. But in that moment as I laughed and was not offended, he realised that I didn’t mind. Because I was a whore as well. Or at least once had been. And I wasn’t judging him or his customers, except to monitor the level of his discomfort at being unprofessional.
Anyway there was still a couple of minutes of observation time to go. So I made polite conversation with this stranger in a cupboard who had just injected me with four viruses.
Have a flu shot (unless you have a job that has sick pay, then try and get flu). All the cool kids are doing it. 

Some more names announced for RHLSTP series 14
1st October Ross Noble returns (to give me a rest from talking)
15th October The team behind Drunk Women Solving Crime, the hit new podcast. Which includes my wife. Should be interesting/marriage destroying.


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