I went to drop off my scripts at CVS and got pulled over.
Hackensack cops, over by the high school. I said to him, as I was getting out my “license and registration, please”
“Was I going too fast?”
I knew I wasn’t, I saw him from eight bazillion miles away, and he said no, my registration was expired (BY THREE DAYS). I said, oh, I’m sorry officer, ill go have that taken care of. I didn’t know.
He interrupted me with:
“Who is this (PBA) card from?”
I told him.
He said: “Well, I’ll honor it this time, but if you hadn’t had it, I’d have impounded your car, and if I see you again, I WILL impound your car.”
Good to know, Mr. McDouchington.
I can just see him sitting on a couch somewhere with a can of warm beer in one hand, and the other in his pants, reliving the Glory Days in high school, when he was the big man on campus, giving swirlies and wedgies with complete impunity.
“Today Ill let you go with a warning.”
Hey thanks. Asshole.
I proceeded to the pharmacy, where it took the little man behind the counter no less than eighteen hours to figure out our new insurance info, from my phone, where he is no doubt reading my prior emails to you regarding the untimely deaths of Michelle from liberty oil and the payroll guy.
During that time, fourteen thousand people had lined up behind me.
No shit, there are people waiting in fucking Canada to drop off their scripts at the Hackensack CVS, and J, with his shoes on backwards, and his hair unbrushed and slept on wet, starts acting up. He started pushing K around in the cart, pulling on my jacket, dangling himself from the counter like a fucking monkey, and then, somehow, scams a lollipop from the lady behind us. I think she was trying to lure him away from his neglectful mother.
K was screaming, wearing mismatching clothes,(as I didn’t think we’d be the head of a fourteen thousand person line) and had taken off one of her socks and lost it, (so I am the lady who took her baby out barefoot except for one carebear sock in the middle of fucking January) and giving me the stiff arm across the trachea. Just before I passed out, I wrangled her into the front of the tiny CVS cart.
Immediately, she pulled her legs up to her chest and dared me to pull them back down through the leg holes. I pulled them back through the leg holes because no 18-month-old is getting over on me, and no shit, she let out this blood curdling scream like I had beaten her with a stick, and people in line two towns over started looking to see who it was beating their child. I put her in the back of the tiny CVS cart. We were good for 5 minutes. I thought I might make it, until J stepped on the end of the tiny CVS cart while I was trying to answer a question the little old man behind the counter had asked and nearly flipped the tiny cart over onto both of them. The little man is almost done, but J (to whom I had promised a ring pop for good behavior in the pharmacy), started whining (with scammed lolipop from the lady behind us in his mouth) that he is no longer eligible for his good behavior ring pop.
I’m going to bed.