Some Saturday Nights Are Better Than Others

According to the medical website Amy had just visited, it was perfectly normal for a middle-aged woman to develop chronic sinusitis.

“Great, in addition to saggy bits and hot flashes, I now get to look forward to years of sniffling and perpetual headaches,” she grumbled. “Perhaps an antihistamine would help.”

So she headed to her neighbourhood drugstore and went straight to the aisle marked seasonal, figuring that’s where she’d find relief for her seasonal allergies. She found row upon row of suntan lotion instead.

“Maybe it’ll be in the next aisle,” she said. No sooner had she turned the corner than she discovered that her drugstore carried even more brands of condoms than they did suntan lotion. She was shocked by the large selection, and the young man looking for just the right brand was startled to see someone her age in the same aisle as him.

“Why wouldn’t a fifty year old woman need condoms?” she wanted to say to him, but knew that would only embarrass the both of them further.

She eventually found the antihistamines two aisles over and went directly to the front of the store to pay for them. She had to stand in line a long time to pay for her over-the-counter sinus meds, long enough for someone to end up waiting in line behind her. She paid for her purchase without so much as a glance back at the person next in line and then walked out of the store.

As she was doing up her seatbelt, she noticed a person heading towards their car. It was the young man she had startled in the condom aisle. He must have been the person next in line. That was most definitely a box of condoms he was carrying, and she had wondered if he forwent having the cashier put them in a bag as a way of protesting the five cents shopkeepers were now charging for bags, or if he just wanted to show off to everyone how proud he was that he actually had a need for condoms that night.

“Good for you,” Amy said. “At least one of us will be having a fun Saturday night.”

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