Oh my God. I have just had the most embarrassing experience EVER. I went to Boots. The Chemist. For a simple remedy. One tablet. For a lady's condition which shares the same name a a common garden bird. And that's as much detail as you're going to get. If you can't work it out from that perhaps you shouldn't be reading this blog.
I'm not afflicted by this condition often - perhaps half a dozen times in my entire lifetime. For that I am thankful. However - the ladies amongst us who have ever suffered from this affliction will know how urgent a remedy is when one is suffering.
It was busy in Boots - and there were a few people in the queue at the dispensary. The other customers were gentlemen. Patiently I waited for my turn, and whilst doing so a further three gentleman joined the queue behind me.
At last my turn arrived and I approached the counter. Lady assistant. Phew. I quietly told her what I wanted...to which her reply at some decibel level which was clearly designed for the whole of Sheffield to hear was....'Do you usually use the cream or the pessary for your Thrush'?
The bitch was about nineteen. I hate her. Right now I am mixing a potion in my kitchen cauldron which when I dance naked round my garden at midnight...sprinking it upon the earth and chanting well chosen words.....will render her hairless on every part of her body for years to come.
