A Fistful Of Classic Clues

As I contemplated this blog entry earlier, I fell asleep.

I recall that I had an interesting dream, but I remember nothing about it. That said, it's possible that it included a re-enactment of a bizarre scene that happened to me this morning.

I woke up early feeling dreadful after another bad night's sleep; a bad cough has dogged me over Christmas. So I made an appointment to see a doctor at the local surgery. I was slightly embarrassed about doing this this, it being a simple cold, but after five days it didn't seem to be improving any. Also, I was wary of having to rely on out-of-hours doctors until Monday, tomorrow being a public holiday.

Unhappily, it turned out to be a chest infection. The young lady doctor was rather sympathetic about it, and gave me ten days of antibiotics to clear it up. In fact, it looked like she wanted to give me a hug. This seems unlikely, so I was probably feverish and delusional.

But all this, while interesting, was only slightly unusual; I quite often have women fussing over me, though they tend to be older ladies wanting to mother me. This includes my mother.

The very unusual thing that happened was in the chemist after.

I handed in my prescription, and while I made polite chitchat with the woman behind the counter, she logged onto her electronic till. She scanned a box of ibuprofen first, and then scanned the barcode for the prescription. The till beeped happily.

It then beeped and added a second prescription. And then beeped and added a third.

The woman stood back, swore in some Eastern European language, and apologised as the till continued to add more prescriptions to my transaction.

It's my broken login code again! she wailed, as the number rolled up. In thirty seconds, we reached a hundred. She hammered keys fruitlessly, and then called her supervisor from the back. He did the same, and then swore in one of the Indian languages as we sailed past a hundred and fifty prescriptions on my bill.

They both stood back, stumped and slightly panicked. I'd swear the woman wanted to give me a hug, but like I said, I was feverish and delusional.

The till abruptly stopped its shenanigans at 208.

I smiled amiably at the pair. What do I owe you? I ask with a grin.

She looked at the total on the till, and giggled.

One thousand, nine hundred and fifty three pounds and seventeen pence!

Wow. I've never been asked for that in any store before, not even Amazon when I bought an HDTV, a hi-def gaming platform, good cabling, and plenty of games and movies. So this was a new and slightly less rewarding experience.

Well, I can put it on VISA, I grinned mischievously, or shall we try the other till first?

She giggled again and we did just that. I escaped for under ten pounds.

Anyway, I'm pretty sure that the dream I had earlier did not include this odd retail experience.

But when I said I remembered nothing about it, I was lying.

I do recall that it was Colonel Mustard in the Lavatory with the Chainsaw.


Good lord, it's just gone midnight.

Happy New Year!


Indigo

This blog entry is protected by copyright © Indigo Roth, 2009

---

Captain's Blog - Supplemental

As the New Year rolled in, I received an automated rejection note from the folks over at humorbloggers.com. I applied yesterday, hoping to get a bit more exposure for this humble blog.

Sadly, they want nothing to do with me. I have no clear idea why, it might be something to do with me not writing funny stuff all the time.

C'est la guerre. I salute them and wish them luck in 2010.

The rest of my year will hopefully be upwardly mobile.


Indigo

This blog entry is protected by copyright © Indigo Roth, 2009