Due to my recent brush with death the flu, I was in the grocery store the other day, purchasing some over-the-counter aids to remaining upright and mucus-free. I put the items on the conveyor belt and fumbled in my pocket for my frequent shopper card. It’s important that I get my reward points, you know.
“Date of birth?”
This caught me off guard. “Excuse me?”
The cashier looked at me tiredly. “I need your date of birth. For the cough syrup.”
“Are you kidding me? For Dayquil?”
She shrugged. “’Fraid not. You know how kids are nowadays. Cough syrup, Sudafed, you name it. I can’t sell to anybody under 18.”
Without warning, my mind flashed forward. I was looking at a vision of a bleak, apocalyptic future:
Lightning crackled overhead as Agent Stark huddled against the side of the building, trying to eke what shelter he could from the ruins. A war skiff whisked overhead, close on the heels of the lightning, but he remained unseen – at least for the time being.
A Daked patrol wandered by, oblivious to the damp, hunched form. As he observed their orange-stained lips, Stark shivered, ruminating on the origins of the Dakeds. A colloquialized version of “Dayq-head,” it referred to those youngsters who had started hopping themselves up on Dayquil back in the early 21st century. Nobody had realized back then that frequent use of what was thought to be merely a cough syrup would enable the adolescents to overthrow the planetary governments in control at that time and force their twisted idea of anarchy upon the population at large.
Stark was part of the resistance movement, and he had been standing still too long already. As soon as the patrol moved out of sight, he hunched his shoulders and oriented himself. He knew he had little time to spare before the package he had delivered to Daked headquarters did its dirty work.
“Sir?”
My mind snapped back to the present. I gave her my birthdate and continued on, lost in thought. I had never realized that the onslaught of Armageddon was being held back by the selfless acts of cashiers everywhere, refusing to sell Dayquil to those who would abuse its powers.
This post is coughing up a lung over at humor-blogs.com.
February 8th, 2008 at 1:36 pm
I’m glad you included that expose of the Dakeds. Until I read that I was still annoyed at yet another attempt to save us from ourselves.
February 8th, 2008 at 2:37 pm
Bet you’ll be more likely to thank your cashier now, eh?
February 8th, 2008 at 3:17 pm
Yanno, I’m tempted to print that out and share it with the next cashier who laughs ruefully at herself for having to ask me such a silly question. It’s happened before, and I’m always too sick to come up with a good line.
Problem is, it would probably circulate wildly through the pharmaceutical companies and work its way into American lore. And you’d get no compensation!
February 8th, 2008 at 5:02 pm
Look at it this way,maybe she thought you looked younger than 18…
February 8th, 2008 at 5:04 pm
wordvixen: Feel free to print and share. Anonymity would be worth bringing a smile to the faces of those who protect us from ourselves.
February 8th, 2008 at 5:09 pm
Ponderings: do you think my teddy bear, Stuffykins, worked against me?
February 9th, 2008 at 7:39 am
Whatever you do, don’t buy any of the nighttime version of the stuff. It’s hard to type with all these extra fingers.
Hope you’re feeling much better, now.
February 9th, 2008 at 10:48 am
I am feeling better, thanks. I do like the nighttime stuff, but only for nighttime. It normally knocks me out before I get to experience any of the fun side effects, darn it.
February 9th, 2008 at 9:14 pm
same goes for white out these days…have to be over 18 to purchase
February 10th, 2008 at 8:32 am
You know, I had heard that there was a conspiracy by an under-eighteen terrorist organization to go berserk, correcting errors willy-nilly all over the country. You have just confirmed that rumor.