Viagtoid!

October 31, 2015 at 11:13 am (Sweet sticky things)

Minty Fresh Sproingg!

Minty Fresh Sproingg!

I was riding the MAX with Rain a whie back, and an older black gentleman caught my eye after I caught him checking her out. ‘Twas no big thing, I nodded at him in that “Yes, she IS hot, isn’t she?” way. He motioned me close. “I have Viagras for sale. Give that woman what she needs…” He held out two tiny blue pills.

“Nah, I’m good, but thank you sir.” I was as old as he was, but I looked better. And he was trying to sell me Altoids. See, the tiny wintergreen ones look just like boner pills.

So the other day when we were on the bus, and Rain asked me for an Altoid, I smiled mischievously.

“What?”

“Nothing,” I said. Still grinning.

“Oh, come on!”

I reached into my pocket, pulled out my traveling medicine chest, and gave her two Altoids. And then I told her why I was laughing…

After a couple years of good health, no hernias, diabeetus, infections or other typical anomalies, the doctors wanted to see me for a kicking of the tires, a change of the oil. They’ve also been after me for years to get a colonoscopy. Since I’m in the best possible group of non-candidates, I’ve dragged my feet. But 55 is approaching, and 66 is getting closer. I want to die like David Carradine, or better yet Grandpa Munster. I want to go out old and horny.

After I agreed, I asked my doctor about Viagra, like they keep telling you to in the commercials. My doctor, a lovely woman named Louise who is likely five years younger than my daughter, and I had a few moments of blush-worthy conversation, which eased up as we went. She’s not my first student doctor. Sometime in the next three years we’ll share that other awkward moment when she snaps on the glove and I bend over the table. (Women doctors are better at this, I am convinced. Their penetration technique is smoother and more refined. Probably from understanding how much fun it is to have someone plow their way up there.) No penetration today, though. Just anticipation about penetration.

“Have you been having issues?”

“No, not really.”

“Do you have morning erections.”

“Oh yeah. Flags rise at dawn.”

“Why do you want to try it?

“To impress my girlfriend, and go a little crazy. I sometimes have issues when we stop to put a condom on. And I want a second shot to come sooner than later, if you get my drift…”

“Sounds like you’re doing better than most. You have no symptoms to indicate it would be bad for you, so I say “Go for it!” We high-fived. I love youthful authori-tie.

I took my prescriptions for Viagra and medical-grade Flonaise to the pharmacy. “What? You’re out of Viagra?” It was Friday night, figures. They would call me when it was ready.

Life's Ups and Downs

Life’s Ups and Downs

I sorta forgot about it. My health plan wouldn’t cover Flonaise, even though doc ordered it, because you can buy an over-the-counter version. Fine. No impressing Angel with my snot-free lifestyle until after payday. What about the Viagra? I was thinking about her when I asked for it, maybe I can impress her other ways…

“Here ya go, that’ll be $368 please.” He wasn’t laughing.

“Here’s my OHP card.” Like I’m at Macy’s with the Amex.

“Sorry, it’s not covered. You have a credit card?”

“Um, can we just put these back? There’s no way I can afford that. That’s $37 a pill. If a boner costs forty bucks, how the hell am I supposed to afford hookers?”

The pharmacist, while possibly sympathetic, was also poker-faced and unmovable.

“Can I take a picture of the bottle?”

“Sure.” The pharmacist gave a cockeyed glance, but stood back and let me take a phone-pic. It’ll be my Facebook profile picture in ten years.

After I left the pharmacy, I texted Angel and confessed my attempt at a hard-on hunt-and-gather. “Guess I’ll have to go back to the old way, thinking of you…”

“Aww, you’re so sweet.”

I miss seeing Angel every day.

After the doctor, I went to work. I told my story to Festus and Dr T. No rumors came back to me so I guess a secret *can* be kept at Master P’s.

A couple days later I got a text from Dr T. “You at The Nightclub Store? I got something for you…”

Awesome. The Doctor likely has a sumptuous snacky treat, or some weed he don’t need. (Although he’s going through the weed a lot more these days. A new woman in your life is like that.) When he walked in, looked both ways, and rattled the little blue pill across the counter, my grin was a mile wide. “Is that what I think it is?”

“Yup.”

“Woohoo! Altoid!” I pretended to pop it.

“That’s not an Altoid…”

“I know, I’m just fuckin’ witcha,” in my Tracy Morgan voice.

“Just DON’T think of me when you’re using it, mmmkay?”

“Deal.”

I put it in my Altoid container, which doubles as my pill stash. (Don’t tell anyone, please?) When Rain asks for an Altoid, and looks to see “how many I have left” it’s one of the few times she checks up on me. She may not be a pill-head, but she knows the way they operate.

My laughter made Rain curious, so I told her. “The doctors okayed it, but I couldn’t afford it. When I told Dr T, he gave me one of his.” I showed her the wrapped one.

“As long as you didn’t give it to me.”

“Not like that, I’m not…”

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