You're So Vain, I Bet You Think This Blog is About You

A big welcome our guest writer, Grandma's great-grandson!! He writes of their recent adventure to the beauty shop and drug store. Enjoy!

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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.