Ever date a guy that’s been mistaken for a CVS Pharmacy?
Dan, bless his stinger, takes a lot of prescription drugs. I’m not going to list them for you, because the man deserves a little privacy. But wow. When he’s in Indy we make a special place in the refrigerator for the particularly particular varieties. The rest of the plastic orange cylinders end up scattered on tables and nightstands or overflowing from the Mysterious Tan Duffel Bag of Southeast Wisconsin.
One time his Vicodin ran out before he made it back to Milwaukee, and I said something smart like, “Try licking your finger, sticking it in the empty pill bottle and swirling, and then licking the magic dust off your finger.” He laughed that little well-aren’t-you-just-too-clever laugh. But I swear on his Battlestar Galactica, The Complete Series® that he tried it later when he thought I wasn’t looking.
Can’t blame him, really. If I lived with that kind of pain I’d be awfully fond of those yummy acetaminophen and hydrocodone candies too. Jokes help though. So we often make fun of his mobile pharmacy.
And that reminds me of the time I went to Milwaukee in January. Before hitting the interstate, I stopped in at my local Marsh Supermarket for a breakfast of doughnut holes and orange juice and bought two twenty-ounce Throwback Mountain Dews for the road. I climbed back in the Malibu and hit the little button on my bluetooth to let Dan know I was on my way.
“Please say a command,” the voice activated contraption prompted.
“Call Dan Poehlman,” I said mechanically.
It had trouble deciphering my words so it asked for clarification. “Did you say ‘Call CVS?’”
Taubensee tilted his little doggy head at me while I laughed at the irony. “No,” I answered.
“Did you say ‘Call Dan Poehlman?’” it asked again.
“Yes,” I said loudly.
The phone rang and Dan picked up. “Baby!” he shouted.
“Oh my God, Dan. You are never going to believe what just happened.”