Hello, what I can only assume are very few people! It’s been a second since I’ve said anything so I’m sure folks are wondering if I’m still able to words at people…maybe. So how about story time?
I, like many am an allergy sufferererer. I don’t have them all the time like some people do, but when I do have them they are just miserable and there’s only a handful of stuff that I can take that works and actually presses pause on my HooverDam nose. And yes, I did just use HooverDam as both an evocative metaphor and as a naughty word. ”HooverDam-it all, where the fuck are my keys?!” should be a household phrase by next month, no doubt. Anyway, there’s only a handful of stuff I can take that will usually work and only one will definitely work and that’s Benadryl…or to use its street name, Roofia Minora. Well, I say it works but really it just makes you pass out so completely and definitively that you don’t know or care what allergies are for the next 4-8 hours.
Well, about ten years ago when I had first moved to Knoxville it was about this time of year and my allergies were horrible…so I took some RM (that’s the new slang for it since the last paragraph). Now, I have to take Arm (new slang…) a lot and so I’m able to withstand its effects a little bit longer than your average ArmHead and this particular night I was winning the war for quite some time—well into sunrise—before I lost the war drastically. I was hangin’ with my room mates, drinking and playing Risk…which is a great way to lose friends, Risk. That game gets a little dark! Not to mention, Risk takes for-fucking-EVER to play so sleep deprivation is a factor after a while, too!
I managed to stay alive in Risk till about 6am whereupon I lost all my armies and soon after all my ability to hold my eyes open. I wished everyone good night and went to brush my teeth and go to bed. So at this point I have to mention that I had just run out of toothpaste and had forgotten to pick some up on my way home from work, but, “No worries!” I tell myself, “I’ll just use Curt’s tonight and get some tomorrow.” I reached into Curt’s drawer and pulled out a white tube with green lettering that I think is one of those stupid hippy toothpastes that taste just plain awful…like, it tastes like Tom put baking soda on his balls and then hiked down from Maine, swiped the excess baking soda from his balls to his toothpaste mixer and grinned his filling-less smile while saying, “It’s natural!”
So you know how you should like, utilise caution and stuff and like, read the labels of things before you put them in your mouth and stuff? ’Member learning that lesson?
This shit tasted horrible! I mean, I could barely taste any mint, despite the green lettering on the tube, and it felt like chewing on cocaine-filled vaseline. EWWWWWWW, it was gross! But I didn’t stop. I knew I had precious few minutes of consciousness left and HooverDam-it, I was gonna brush dem teef! And a little seed started to take root at the back of my mind: I was gonna give Curt so much shit for how awful his stupid, hippy toothpaste was in every way.
A week goes by and since I ran, not walked to the store the next day I had been using my preferred toothpaste. I was hanging out with Curt at one point after that week passed and I remembered somehow what I had vowed and cut Curt off in what he was saying to say, “Man, your toothpaste fucking sucks!”
He was confused and said to me, “What are you talking about?”
“That hippy-dippy fucking toothpaste you have in your drawer, I had to use it last week and it tastes like a bunch of dicks!”
“Uhhhmmmm, don’t know how to tell you this but I’ve been out of toothpaste and using yours for the last week…”
Things start to dawn on Curt and Me at reasonably the same time and he runs to the bathroom to see what the fuck and proceeded to gut laugh for the next forever years and walked out holding the vaguely familiar tube saying, “Dude, this is generic Bengay!”
<:::sigh:::>
Ronnie