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October 26th, 2015

Last week, I went to the drugstore to pick up my happy pills, in prep for last week’s dental surgery.

(Which was successful, by the way. I now have a big hole in the back of my jaw that is healing so that another implant can be fitted.)

But, since I have a weakness for all things Halloween, and have sworn off fun size candy, I took a walk down the decoration aisle, just to see what was on sale. And I remembered why it was I had planned to come back for the mark down.

They had Victorian style, spooky telephones.

Really, the last thing I need is another decoration. But this is and faux antique, faux rotary phone that would look great in our entryway. It’s motion sensitive. It rings. And if you pick up the hand set it utters dire warnings. I need more dire warnings in my life.

I needed this phone.

So, in the cart it went, as I proceeded back towards the pharmacy.

Did I mention motion sensitive?

RING

And it’s loud.

RING RING

And every step I took jolted it in the cart, causing it to go off.

RING RING RING

People were staring. Probably wondering why I wasn’t taking a call. And it was pretty impossible to look around innocently and pretend that it was coming from somewhere other than me. I tried walking faster.

RING

And slower.

RING RING.

But I really didn’t want to walk slower, since it the trip to the back of the store already seemed to be taking forever.

RING RING RING

So, I took the receiver off the hook to stop the ringing.

I’D TURN BACK IF I WERE YOU.

Too late. We are already through the greeting cards, and into the vitamins, practically to the pick- up window.

Now, the pharmacists, are glaring at me, muttering to the people in the drive thru about someone’s Halloween decoration.

YES. COME CLOSER. COME RIGHT UP. THIS WAY.

More side eyed glances at the impatient woman with the phone.

Dammit I know they’re busy. This is not my fault. Really, people. If you didn’t want this to happen, why are you selling this damn thing? And I am in too deep now to take it back. The only hope is to leave it on the counter and run.

The pharmacy clerk comes to the window, and I put the phone on the counter, ready to check out.

WE HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR YOU.

Really, phone. You don’t have to be rude.

She gets me my drugs.

AT LAST, I’VE WAITED SO LONG.

Help me.

So. I check out, put it in a bag, which only slightly muffles its maniacal laughter, and I get it home.

Now, finally the fun will begin. It will go off any time my stupid cat walks past it, and I will have sweet revenge for every time he’s peed under the bench in the office.

Dead silence. Apparently, this is a Walgreen specific haunted phone.