Oh, the Places You'll Go Into!

Black was slimming; red-and-white stripes, not so much. I guess black would make me look like the Grim Reaper. Not a good look for a hospital volunteer.

“You’re early,” Hunter, the pharmacy supervisor, said, his bearded lips shiny from a half-eaten Wendy’s burger open-faced on the counter.

“Here.” He handed me a package that looked like a bunch of little gray submarines from Battleship. “Separate those, please.”

“Like this?” I tore one off and asked, “Hey, how do people swallow these?”

“Um…what?”

“Are these like horse pills?”

“Uh, no, they’re suppositories.”

I waited.

He blinked. “They go through Door #2.”