Hot off the newsdesk:
I saw Doctor Exclamation Mark again this evening to see how I'd got on with the little blue pills. Yes, based on the effects I've decided to play along for a while.
He: "So, how did it go? Did we have a happy lady? Or man-friend? Haha!"
Me: (dutifully) "Haha. Yes, they were ok."
He: "Hmmm! You don't seem too sure! Any side effects?"
Me: (after a moment's thought) "No, none"
He: "Jolly good! In which case lets up the dose! 100mg is the next level! Here you go, this should keep you going for a while!"
And with that I was gone, with a prescription for enough of the stuff to last. Well. A long time. I should feel guilty about this - its an expensive drug for the National Health Service to dole out. Fortunately, I also know how much tax I pay, which cancels the guilt out nicely.
My usual pharmacist was closed so I had to use another one, a local shop with the proprietor's name displayed prominently.
"A. Woodcock"
I looked at my prescription and looked again at the sign. The pharmacist saw my barely concealed smirk and sighed: "We've only got 4 tablets in at the moment. The rest will be ready in the morning. Will that be enough for tonight?"
"I bloody well hope so" I said, laughing as the pharmacist realised what he'd said and started to turn a fetching shade of scarlet.
You couldn't make it up. You really couldn't. "A. Woodcock" Deary, deary me.
