(Warning: The following story contains body fluids. There is also a description of a man’s exposed ass cheek. Discretion is advised.)
Once upon a time, I held another man’s urine, because I was stuck working in my pharmacy. One of the customers was convinced that her husband was on illicit drugs. She bought in a brown, paper bag with her, so I assumed that she had found a strange tablet or two in one of his pockets and she wanted them identified. I held out my hand and before I could react, she took a jar containing her husband’s urine from her bag and placed it in my palm.
“How warm of her”, I thought. I put the jar down, ran to the sink in the back, and washed my hands until it was closing time. When I got back home that evening I sat paralyzed on my couch. I replayed the events in my head. Would a competent pharmacist have been able to anticipate that leak? No. I was convinced there was no way I could have known. Nobody expects to be passed pee in a pharmacy.
The customer had told me that she had been married to her husband for seven years but he wasn’t the same man she had met. He never shared his feelings. She often found him listening to new music she had never heard before. Sometimes when he got home from work he would just stare into space. It was those blank expressions that bothered the lady the most. Was there something going on in that brain, or was he just self- medicating?
-“It was easy. That man never flushes the toilet”, she explained, “So I took his pee without him knowing”.
She had kidnapped some piss for answers. The funny thing is, I could have helped her without the urine. Married guys all over the world hear these wifely complaints all the time. Right this second, some guy in Africa is being told that he is not the same masai warrior that he was, when his wife first met him. And Roger Daltrey’s spouse probably sings “Who Are You” to him every night of the week.
At that moment I looked up from my comfy little couch with the fourteen different remote controls around me. My wife and son were glaring at me. She was pissed because I still had my shoes on in the house. (Filipinos.) The kid was holding an empty box of Mallomars that I had devoured on my way to the couch. I was about to hear a “who is this man?” speech. I got up before any of them could start. That night, in the name of hijacked waste products everywhere, I would take a stand.
-“Everyone in the bathroom!”, I commanded.
-“What are you talking about? Are you on drugs?”, my wife asked.
I was too determined. I was going to fully expose myself to them, once and for all. To stop those endless questions about me. When I finally had the two of them in our closet sized bathroom, I turned my butt to my wife and son and unbuckled my belt.
-“Honey, its OK. You should go back to the couch. I’ll buy you some more Mallomars”.
But I didn’t stop. I lowered part of my pants, and showed my family something that had been placed on my left ass cheek since birth. It was a little square of folded, white paper that had been slightly discolored with age.
It was my package insert.
-“What is that thing? A lottery ticket?”, my wife asked.
-“Dad, do you have a scratch-off on your butt?”
My wife gingerly removed it, and I pulled up my trousers. I explained to them how when a drug comes to market, the maker is required to stick prescribing information on the package. It told you all that was needed about safely using the drug. That night I presented my prescribing information to my wife and son. We all have an insert. You just have to get up off your ass and look. We took it to the dining room and carefully unfolded it on the dinner table.
My wife paused and said, “Are you saying that this little paper, that has been stuck on your rear since birth, is going to tell us all we need to know, to figure you out?”
-”Sure”, I said, “if you know how to pick out the important information”.
“Wait a minute, we’ll be back”, the two of them left the room.
My wife came back wearing a monocle in one eye and carrying a magnifying glass. My son had his Blues Clues notebook saved from when he was five. He handed me my highlighter from pharmacy school, the one with the invisible ink. We were ready, and we leaned in to examine the package insert for LastRefills:
LASTAGAIN® Prescribing Information
(Filsolold USP) Time Release Tablets Rx Only
Filsolold has been on the market just shy of half a century, but he still feels like a racemic amateur and realizes that he will never become a pro drug.
He is the sarcastic salt of a left out isomer and is identified chemically as (-) trans, (-) Porsche, (+) lemon-I-drank-sum-ethyl, 8-sum-pizza, now-needs-a-bromo hydrochloride.
The structural formula is as follows:
Filsolold is a disturbingly white powder, unfortunately not always odorless, with a melting point of 3 derm prescriptions. He is mostly solid but can be occasionally gaseous, depending on breakfast, and is freely, freely, freely soluble in all types of alcohol.
This tablet has a super thin coating. Can release it, but can’t take it. The filmy pill is gray and scored. With new scores appearing almost daily.
Third generation. Doesn’t look a thing like his two older generations, who arrived 4 and 5 years earlier. Believes he was a lab accident. One parent molecule has been catalyzed, so Filsolold is half an orphan drug.
Mechanism of Action:
- Catalyzes confrontational substrates and neutralizes negative charges. (Doesn’t like to complain to the neighbors about their garbage cans).
- Expresses humors to improve his flow.
- Attaches to coupled proteins, rather than talking one on one. Socially awkward.
Abortifacient: Aborts barely conceived career plans, usually in the first trimester. Failure avoidance yes, but there has always been a Plan B.
Secretaguard: Guards secrets, especially his own. Like a well-made emulsion, he will not crack. Test him.
Beta Blocker: Was never a fan of BetaMax. During college years discovered classic movies on VHS, while his friends found porn. Memorized “Lawrence of Arabia” instead of the Krebs Cycle. As Lawrence said: “Nothing is written, unless you write it”, but apparently he wasn’t referring to biochem notes.
Complete Agonist: Agonizes over everything. Tumor fertilizer.
Anticolonergic: Often fighting some sort of battle with his colon.
Hallucinogenic; Life has to be interesting, even though day in and day out can get fairly routine. Can imagine a pretend life if required.
Oral: not so good. Better with written words. But even his written stuff can get muddled. Absorption should be 100 per cent once they perfect that “mind meld” technology that was featured on all those Star Trek reruns he used to watch on channel 11.
Dermal: be patient, given enough time, he will get under your skin.
Vaginal: Rather than a deal closer, in college, he was known as a zipper closer.
Rectal: Never much of an ass kisser, unless you want to count those two years he was in regional management.
Distribution: Mostly to couch tissues. Highly bound to television remote controls.
Metabolism: Produced one highly active metabolite. A better molecule. Brings meaning to his half-life.
Half-life: Roll of the dice.
Excretion: All night long.
LOYALTY TRIAL: Results are controversial. Distant family and friends claim he has made them feel insignificant. His data is biased: the people living in the area under his own curve will always count first. These are the subjects that hold the highest me-Value.
INDICATIONS AND USAGE
- Financially: Cannot be the sole supporter, spouse will have to pick up some slack.
- Emotionally: Cannot be the soul supporter, spouse will have to pick up some slack.
Thinks the GPS is man’s greatest invention. Now the wife yells at the GARMIN instead.
Ten ml, vaginally. Equivalent oral or rectal doses are ineffective for this indication.
The suburbs, career climbers, ass-kissers, politics, nightclubs, feelings- nothing but feelings, talking it out, Williamsburg, VA, administrators, human resources, consultants, drug reps, school parents, soccer moms, basketball dads, lawn worshippers, coupons, shopping for clothes, NYC parking, frats, jocks, boy scouts, house painting, the death of 70’s music, the Godfather part 3, posing for pictures for longer than 1 minute, overhead luggage, saying good bye, e-mail, rifle range as an Olympic sport, raw oysters, arriving to work.
What’s the point. No one listens.
Doesn’t like to interact with most people.
He has made women vomit.
In cases of over exposure, just start talking politics to him and he will go away.
DOSAGE AND ADMINISTRATION
The full strength tablet has been discontinued. The half strength tablet is being phased out. As time passes he is becoming more and more homeopathic.
Time release: Constantly releasing time. Selectively non-present. Memory pill. Timitis- old songs are constantly ringing in his ears. Layers of stories. The lake where we grew up every July and August, Pirate tubing down the Delaware. The Halloween of the ghost dog. The crazy brothers, the angel mother… the mystery dad, that man a clue-free formula. -“What happened was“ –“What will happen is..” Soon. Next year. maybe. Cure for all. No sugar pill, I. One day. This active ingredient will make. A better life for each of us.
Lately, does not like to leave his container. When first released he was at his most effective when exposed to summer light. Does better now on autumn nights, absorbing the yellow moon.
Conceived circa 1963, perhaps by accident.