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Nothing says "I Love You, Dear" like screaming lower back pain!

Sometimes Wrong but rarely in doubt!

07 May 2012


I went to get the "SNIP" last Monday since Mrs. Bugbear and I figure three little bugbears are just about enough destructive potential in one home.  Don't worry I'm not going to get into any details about the procedure or any post-operative suffering or grotesqueries. But I do have a story to relate from some events before the surgery.

I left work on Friday and stopped at a pharmacy on the way home from work.  As I walked in I watched the four people behind the pharmacy counter talking, at length, as I waited for one of them to deign to take my prescription.  When they told me that I'd have to wait thirty to forty minutes for my prescription I told them I'd go somewhere else.

Frustrated I decided to go to the range.  So I drove home and picked up a couple of rifles and headed to the range.  The range I belong to happens to be in the town where I went to high school which is about 25 miles from the city where I work.  As drove to the range I realized I'd forgotten targets (as I so often do).  So I decided to stop at the local Crappy Tire to get targets and I noticed that the grocery store next door had a pharmacy.  I walked in and the technician who took the prescription was a woman that I'd gone to high school with but I couldn't recall her name.  She said it would be five minutes to get the prescription so I walked next door and bought targets.

Upon my return to the pharmacy I had to wait while an older lady expounded at length about her various ailments to the male pharmacist.  When the older lady finally wound down the pharmacist looked at me and said,"Mr. Bugbear?"

"Yes," I replied patiently.

In a low conspiratory voice he asked, "Are you having a procedure?"

"It's disturbing that from 15 pills you can infer that I'm having a procedure."  I replied in a low voice.

"A vasectomy?"

I looked at the floor in and very quietly admitted I was getting a vasectomy.

"Do you have any freezer gel packs?"  he asked.

"No," I said, "I was going to..."

I was interrupted by a shout from the technician, "USE A BAG OF FROZEN VEGETABLES."

The pharmacist walked to a shelf behind the counter and tossed four gel packs into a bag and handed it to me.

With a big smile he said. "The gel packs are on the house, welcome to the fraternity brother!"

I still hate that town.  I'm convinced that the average IQ of the town is at least one standard deviation below average.

The moral of the story though is that sometimes impatience pays off and never eat vegetables at the home of a man who recently had a vasectomy.

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