My unwillingness to spend money bit me in the ass today. There are two places one could procure a pain reliever in my office building if you don’t have any or are unwilling to mooch off your coworkers (even though they are the reason you need said pain reliever in the first place): the convenience store and the office equivalent of the nurse’s office. One you pay, one it’s free. Guess where I went.

Yup, you’re right, I went to the free one: the nurse’s office. Now, I had been here once before for a band aid when my shoe gave me a blister so I kind of knew what I was getting in for. They’re a little unpleasant, at times downright bristly, and going in is not just a process of “can I have a band aid” but rather “I would like a band aid for my foot, why do we need to talk about what medications I’m on?” It’s like airport security: sure, you could fight them but it’s not going to be pleasant and you’re not going to win.

So I went in looking for some free ibuprofen and before they would hand it to me, I had to subject myself a quasi physical and fill out a lengthy form. The nurse didn’t believe me when I said I didn’t have any medical problems, allergies, or that I didn’t take any kind of medication. I told her I didn’t and even if I did how was that relevant to “I have a headache, can I just have some ibuprofen please”?

Then she told me I needed to weighed. That’s right, right there in the waiting room, I needed to be weighed. Getting weighed is something you do in the privacy of your own home, with the shade down, in darkness, and that’s it. WTF was this woman talking about, I needed to be weighed. No f%(^ing way. No. I put my foot down. I’ll give you blood before I’ll let you weigh me in front of people I work with.

And after I weighed my options, I ended up across the hall at the convenience store shelling out the $5 for a teeny tiny bottle of Motrin. Assholes.

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