mr pharmacist

[substitute]

The pharmacy just before 6 am. There's nothing like it! It's a Hopper painting with bonus bad R&B muzak and the smell of floor cleaner.

I bet this is what Death will be. Slightly dirty white floors, sterile piped-in music, waiting on plastic chairs, bright and cheerful signs about terrible things, and waiting for someone in a white coat to do something about the god-damned pain.

Comic relief: my pharmacist was Mrs.Doubtfire again. It's not that she's transgender. This is Southern California and no one cares. It's that she seems to have modeled herself exactly on La Doubtfire. I was wondering if I would be a victin of a walk-by fruiting as I left.

When the haze of the stupid pain pills disappears I am going on a walk. Yeah, you heard me. A god-damned walk! In the NATURE BITS!

Comments

[handstil.livejournal.com]

Is this at Westcliff plaza? If not there are two Ms. Doubtfire Pharmacists!

[substitute.livejournal.com]

It is, it is. I really wonder how one consciously arrives at that look.

[vegemitelover.livejournal.com]

Someting seemingly subliminal about "TAKE ONE".

[la-lisa.livejournal.com]

You should check out Marc Trujillo's paintings. They are Hopper without the bathos. I think you would connect with the emotions in them.

[smokeysizzlebar.livejournal.com]

I experienced similar environs in a dream a few years back.

I was in some late-night/Hopper-Lynchian purgatory diner where the overhead ultraviolets hummed quietly and made the whole room the whitest shade of white there ever was. At the counter was my deceased grandfather--who bore more of a resemblance to the corpse of William S. Burroughs than to himself---and he didn't speak and didn't even seem to be aware of my presence.

AND he was drinking coffee so black that it looked like that sludgey, gooey, motor oil-esque coffee in the Black Lodge in the final episode of Twin Peaks.

Weird, man.

[substitute.livejournal.com]

Great news. That gum you like is back in style.