Saturday morning I had to do a quick dash to the local pharmacist for one of those need-to-be-at-the-pharamacist-as-soon-as-it-opens situations.
A womans problem.
I know that the women amongst you will have had similar experiences so you'll be sympathetic to my situation.
So I explained my "problem" to the shop assistant chick who went and described it to the (elderly male) pharmacist who came back over to me and recounted my problem back to me. Yup, that's what I had. Now what have they got for it. The pharmacist wandered over to the shelves and got a tube of something, then went back to the counter and started to describe the ...ahem, "application", in freakin graphic and slow detail. I started to panic a little and smile a little as I realised the situation I had got myself into. I had gone to the shop first thing, mainly because I desperately needed to, but also because I thought there would be no one else in the shop. Well there wasn't when I started.
By this stage there was two people waiting in this small pharmacy, a father and his child wanting some panedol, and ...gad...my butcher. Nooooooooooo, someone who knows me, and worse, someone who was young, male and one of my only friends when I first got here. Of course I started trying to hurry this infinitely long process along, and I also started to laugh a little as I was slightly mortified. The pharmacist started to chuckle too, saying, yes it can be a bit tricky getting it up there.
Someone wake me up from this bad dream.
I am definitely not going back to that pharmacist and am contemplating changing butchers too, as he now knows far too much about me.
I laughed all the way home.