A big welcome our guest writer, Grandma's great-grandson!! He writes of their recent adventure to the beauty shop and drug store. Enjoy!
~~~~~~~
Blessed art the vain, for they shalt be
spoke of fondly in the words of their friends, hopefully.
My
grandmother had appointments lined up all morning/afternoon, so, as per the
Trickle Down effect, I got to take great-grandma to her town happenings.
She was in a decent mood when I picked her up.
Our
car rides are usually quiet. Small talk is attempted, but it doesn't really go
anywhere. I've learned to just focus on the classical music I have playing. Makes
the whole experience at least somewhat enjoyable.
After
dropping her off at the beauty shop, I then went and picked up her sewing fabric from my grandmother's
house. Nothing too major, didn't mind doing it. Then I went
home, played a game for about 15 minutes, then it was time to set sail and go
pick her up.
Now
came the fun part: finding things at a drug store that she wasn't able to
get at the small grocery store.
On
her list: Aveeno (no type), Mousse, Advil PM, Advil, Allergy
Just
staring at the list, I can feel the time I would have had be ground into a fine
powder.
Guiding
her through a store is like pulling the leash on a choke collar which she
barely responds to: Ineffective, and you look stupid for trying.
I
managed to find an Aveeno section, and then asked her what kind it was she needed.
"I
don't know, but it was on the TV, and it gets rid of age spots."
I
have seen her buy several face and body creams while she's been here. I don't
know if she's actually ever stuck to a regimen of one for the designed amount
of time.
So
now I'm forced to look at each and every bottle, looking for keywords like
"age," "spots," or "old." No such luck. She
eventually gives up, saying she'd rather know what it is than waste money on
something she doesn't know if it will. Fair judgment.
Total time wasted: 15
minutes.
The
Mousse Adventure wasn't nearly as exciting. She knew the brand she wanted, and then just
picked a type at random.
Total time extinguished: 20 minutes.
Next
came the pills. I don't think she even knows what she takes or why she takes them.
I doubt she follows orders on them, so, in retrospect, this whole scene tickles
me a bit. Please put down anything you are eating or drinking to avoid fatal
risks for this part. We went into the allergy part first. I asked her what
brand it was she needed.
"I
don't know, but it has 'allergy' on the bottle."
Oh,
yeah, that's great, narrows the list down a fraction. It's not like a lot of
the bottles for allergy medications put the word "ALLERGY" on the
bottle, or in what it combats, or in its directions sectiOH WAIT. She ended up,
again, picking one she thought she uses (in other words, roulette).
Total time
tossed: 30 minutes.
The
Advil was just a pain in attempting. She said she didn't need too many, as she
didn't take a lot. She settled on 100 normal Advil and 48 Advil PM.
Total time
perished: 35 minutes.
As
we make our way to the front, she gets me to grab a bag of potting soil
("Oh, it's just a dollar, get one of those!"). She wouldn't get a pot
there because they were expensive. Bear in mind she thinks a small pot at $2.29
is expensive.
We
make it to the check-out, and the clerk asks if we found everything ok. She
asks about the Aveeno, in just as vague of terms she used with me. The clerk
directs us back to the section to find the lady working there, who wasn't there
previously. Goodness, I felt so sorry for her, as now she has to abandon all
rationality and try and find what this coot is looking for. She was a stout lady
of Indian descent. Spoke great English, and I managed to make out at least 87%
of what she said through the accent, which is an accomplishment in my book.
Even more so, my great-grandma understood her. That, I think, was the most
shocking part of that.
By
this time, I'm nearly at the end of my rope and struggling to hang on. The two go
back and forth about what she's looking for, as she did with me. The lady goes
over to the section we went to previously, looks there at each bottle (AGAIN)
but goes over to a different section. We follow, and she shows her a couple of
options. Some are cover-ups, some are lotions, and I'll be buggered if grandma
didn't look at all the choices.
At
several points, the lady grabs one and asks me if this is the one she wants. I
look it over, and try to talk to the lady about what she's looking for in
better terms ("something that fights brown spots?"). Eventually, we
find one that the lady herself uses. As the lady is describing how bad her old
brown spots on her face were, great-grandma's looking the box up and down.
I don't know why, since she can barely see as it is. When she looks to see what
the price is, the whole store surely heard her exclaim, "Good NIGHT!
A little over $16 for the bottle!?" The kicker? After looking at it for a few
more seconds, she says, "Well, I guess I'll try it." Remember the small
pots? Yeah, neither did she.
After
she pays (by check) for everything, we head out.
Total time annihilated: One
hour, nine minutes.
Even in Texas, there's never a noose when you need one.
I
get her back to her house, unpack her things, trim her fat cat's claws, make sure she's
got food and television, the latter being of the utmost importance if we wish
to be happy. Goodbyes said, I finally departed from babysitting.
The comforts
of my own home and my own room were never so inviting.