Wednesday, April 21, 2010

The problem with airplanes and big groups of people, regardless of how much airborne and zinc and multivatims you booste, is you're bound to catch something. Which, we inevitably did, incubating it in our lungs, and bringing it back to Madison. So here we are, tight heads, swimming lungs, hacking and coughing and sneezing and sniffling while we try to pack and enjoy each other's company in our last week and a half here.

Last night we went to Target (ohh, Target, I'm so tired of you. Why are you so convenient? And so close to my house? And why do you carry everything?) to buy a few staples, including robitussin, zicam, and airborne. As we were checking out, the cute, elderly midwestern saleslady stopped us in our tracks and asked us for our IDs. She erroneously thought it was for the Airborne, even though it was actually for the Dextromethorphan in the robitussin. So Charlie says, "Really? For Airborne?" and the elderly saleslady, in her innocently charming Midwestern accent says, "Yep. There must be something in Airborne that you can make into Meth."

Meth? Are you kidding me? This woman doesn't even know the first thing about meth. Airborne is totally homeopathic; it's a mix of herbal extracts, amino acids, electrolytes, antioxidants, and vitamins. Some higher power in Target told her that any time she had to take an ID it was because someone could allegedly make "meth" out of it, and that's the information she's now doling out to customers. Awesome. Now you probably have some teenage kid trying to get high off of Airborne. Good luck to you, buddy.

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