James_B
11-27-2007, 09:25 AM
If I came with a warning level it would say: "Warning, Highly Worrisome." I was confronted with this idea yesterday after I walked into a local Kroger to receive a flu shot. I walked past a flatbed truck parked at an angle, with Hostess Twinkie advertising on both sides. Having just come from an interview with Kelly Services, during which I was informed they had no opportunities available, I was sober-minded, yet somewhat nostalgic over a similar set of circumstances last year when I moved back to Michigan.
************************************************** ******
I was back in town for about six weeks and not only did I sign up with staffing firms that didn't have any assignments, but I also attended a career fair once in Southfield, only to find out that it was intended for women only. Something I would have taken far more seriously if it wasn't for the support and companionship I found in a couple new friends at the time, Joe and Daisy. For about 2.5 weeks last year, I hung out with them almost every night, and learned that I was not alone back here, given my personal and financial frustrations. One evening, both Joe and I agreed that if Daisy put a bunch of garbage ties in her hair and walked into the grocery store with us that we'd each buy her a six-pack of Mike's Hard Lemonade[i], her preferred flavor of which being [i]Sour Apple.
************************************************** *******
So, with somewhat of a bitter after taste lingering from my recent job loss, I proceeded into Kroger and waited in line at the pharmacy for a flu shot that wasn't necessarily within my budget to afford. Standing in line behind me was a young couple also there for a flu shot. The man was tall and wore jeans and a hoodie. His wide, expressive eyes concealed nothing and even expressed a mild trepidation over the whole procedure. I was fine in my business casual attire until after I completed a form which notated that, people with certain neurological disorders may experience complications, so I asked the pharmacist if the fact I had epilepsy would pose a risk. She said, "Oh really, my husband has epilepsy too." Then asked, "Yours are controlled, right? Yeah, then don't worry about it." She asked me to take my shirt off, and, as a precaution, requested I remain within the store for 15 minutes afterward.
Needless to say, up and down the aisles I went, initially stuck in the whole foods aisle adjacent to the pharmacy in the event I had an allergic reaction. I observed cereal boxes of "Whole Food Frosted Flakes" and "Whole Food Rice Krispies" but struggled to locate a box of "Whole Food Lucky Charms" when I looked at some sauces instead, a youthful produce man catching my peripheral vision: tall and thin with spiked, dark hair. So I decided to just spend the rest of the 15 minutes walking methodically up and down the aisles with the hopes I'd come across a cheap essential for the household. I was walking down an arts and crafts isle, selling wreaths, plastic santa clauses when I nearly walked into a cardboard Hershey's display in the center of the aisle. My vision seemed to be fluttering and changing color from bright white to a tartarish yellow. My senses peaked and my heart rate accelerated and I was momentarily convinced something was wrong.
Back at the pharmacy, I explained that I felt strange so the woman suggested I sit down for a moment. She returned with some water from Starbucks and went back to work behind the counter. "And I have a large assortment of drugs if you need any," she explained in a friendly manner, gesturing toward the shelf in front. Before I fed my anxiety and read through the flu shot informational packet again, I gazed back toward the aisle where I experienced my so-called allergic reaction; looking dumbfoundedly at the flourescent lighting above as if it was that toy clown from the movie Poltergeist. And sure enough, there was a short in the bulb. There was nothing wrong with my vision.
I returned home relaxed, throwing an insidious laughter of my own into the icy wind. Go scare someone else anxiety. :P
************************************************** ******
I was back in town for about six weeks and not only did I sign up with staffing firms that didn't have any assignments, but I also attended a career fair once in Southfield, only to find out that it was intended for women only. Something I would have taken far more seriously if it wasn't for the support and companionship I found in a couple new friends at the time, Joe and Daisy. For about 2.5 weeks last year, I hung out with them almost every night, and learned that I was not alone back here, given my personal and financial frustrations. One evening, both Joe and I agreed that if Daisy put a bunch of garbage ties in her hair and walked into the grocery store with us that we'd each buy her a six-pack of Mike's Hard Lemonade[i], her preferred flavor of which being [i]Sour Apple.
************************************************** *******
So, with somewhat of a bitter after taste lingering from my recent job loss, I proceeded into Kroger and waited in line at the pharmacy for a flu shot that wasn't necessarily within my budget to afford. Standing in line behind me was a young couple also there for a flu shot. The man was tall and wore jeans and a hoodie. His wide, expressive eyes concealed nothing and even expressed a mild trepidation over the whole procedure. I was fine in my business casual attire until after I completed a form which notated that, people with certain neurological disorders may experience complications, so I asked the pharmacist if the fact I had epilepsy would pose a risk. She said, "Oh really, my husband has epilepsy too." Then asked, "Yours are controlled, right? Yeah, then don't worry about it." She asked me to take my shirt off, and, as a precaution, requested I remain within the store for 15 minutes afterward.
Needless to say, up and down the aisles I went, initially stuck in the whole foods aisle adjacent to the pharmacy in the event I had an allergic reaction. I observed cereal boxes of "Whole Food Frosted Flakes" and "Whole Food Rice Krispies" but struggled to locate a box of "Whole Food Lucky Charms" when I looked at some sauces instead, a youthful produce man catching my peripheral vision: tall and thin with spiked, dark hair. So I decided to just spend the rest of the 15 minutes walking methodically up and down the aisles with the hopes I'd come across a cheap essential for the household. I was walking down an arts and crafts isle, selling wreaths, plastic santa clauses when I nearly walked into a cardboard Hershey's display in the center of the aisle. My vision seemed to be fluttering and changing color from bright white to a tartarish yellow. My senses peaked and my heart rate accelerated and I was momentarily convinced something was wrong.
Back at the pharmacy, I explained that I felt strange so the woman suggested I sit down for a moment. She returned with some water from Starbucks and went back to work behind the counter. "And I have a large assortment of drugs if you need any," she explained in a friendly manner, gesturing toward the shelf in front. Before I fed my anxiety and read through the flu shot informational packet again, I gazed back toward the aisle where I experienced my so-called allergic reaction; looking dumbfoundedly at the flourescent lighting above as if it was that toy clown from the movie Poltergeist. And sure enough, there was a short in the bulb. There was nothing wrong with my vision.
I returned home relaxed, throwing an insidious laughter of my own into the icy wind. Go scare someone else anxiety. :P