And I Don't Even Like Doughnuts

I had a headache earlier that had me wishing for a dark room and absolute silence But since we're a little short on both of those things around here, I settled for Ibuprofen.

Tylenol has always done exactly JACK SHIT for me, pretty much all my life. For whatever reason my body just doesn't utilize it properly. My Mom said even when I was a kid, she often gave me aspirin (you were allowed to do that back in the Dark Ages before the wheel was invented) as opposed to Tylenol because it relieved any pain I had much better.

It may have also had something to do with the fact that I hated the flavor of that red Tylenol liquid and often spat it back in her face. Seems Meredith comes by that behavior quite honestly.

I discovered Ibuprofen when it was still a prescription drug and have cheerfully abused it ever since. Just kidding. Sort of.

In 1992 my co-workers insisted on having a bachelorette party for me at a place called Gloria's on Route 30. I don't know if it's still there and as far as I know its sole purpose was to provide a place for rowdy girls to BYOB and see male strippers. I couldn't tell you if it was in Irwin or North Huntington or the Planet Jupiter as I didn't drive myself there and as conscious as I was of the return trip, I may have gotten home via transporter. Beam me up Scotty.

So we had the "Italian Stallion", as well as a cowboy whose hat was less Marlboro Man and more Boy George, and of course the requisite policeman that came in and handcuffed all the brides-to-be.

And I think there may have been vodka involved.

My cousin had the dubious honor of taking me home, and we stayed at her home where she still lived with my Aunt and Uncle at the time. The next morning she popped out of bed like a cheerful chickadee insisting we go get doughnuts as she was often wont to do. And I, who was never a morning person under the best of circumstances, tried very hard to keep my head from exploding all over the wallpaper. Which my Aunt would not have appreciated one little bit.

And that was when my cousin introduced me to Ibuprofen. Motrin it was still called at the time. She was dating the brother of a pharmaceutical rep and she had one of those tall bottles of Motrin that pharmacies use to dispense prescriptions. They were the high-test full strength 800 milligram tablets. I may have taken two. Possibly even three. And while I'm sure I still looked like death warmed over that was still a bit on the cold side, and smelled like something that normally sleeps under the Highland Park Bridge, I felt my head return to some semblance of normalcy and was able to actually move around without fear of my brains leaking onto my Aunt's carpeting.

And I was hooked. My cousin was officially my introduction to my addiction. She knew it was her only hope of her getting her doughnuts that morning.

And you know to this day, I'm pretty sure she'd do it again if it meant she got to have her doughnut on Sunday morning.