Me? A Meth Addict? Seriously, I Am in My Pajamas...

So, in the middle of the night I had to get some Tylenol for the baby.  Yes, this task sucks as much as it seems like it would.

But, get this, the grocery store had one orange construction cone on each end of the medication aisle. 

Not knowing why it was there, I simply walked around it.  Really, this did not require a particular amount of stealthness on my part.  No camouflage outfit, no twigs in my hair, none of that weird ass netting dangling off of me. 

Some emo, asexual teenager drags itself up and says "like, you can't like be here dude.  Didn't you see the cone, man?"

"Yes, I did see the oddly placed cone.  Thanks."

"No, you like can't buy meds at night."

"I am sorry.  Are you still talking to me?"  WTF is it with emo kids that they can't speak beyond a murmur?  Would it wreck their fragile demeanor to enunciate?  Bad hair and mumbling -- all they need is bad skin for the teenager trifecta!

"Yeah, like you can't be here."

Not that I am a stud BY ANY STRETCH of the imagination.  But, should it come down to it, even I (a frazzled mom of a sick infant and hubby, in the midst of finals and planning a trip to India) could take out the 85-pound asexual kid holding a box of macaroons. 

"Listen, kid, I am not even sure if you are speaking.  And, if so, if you are talking to me since you are unable to make eye contact.  I hope you are done because I am bored already."  Yes, I know this is rude {which I normally am not} but, honest to God, I have not slept in days, my beloved, never-cries-even-when-I-left-one-of-his-testicles-hanging-out-of-his-diaper baby is sobbing uncontrollably at home and I am not in the mood to deal with a walking, mumbling mood swing.  Sorry, sue me. 

It shuffles off to get the manager who, thankfully, speaks.  But, GET THIS...

Meth requires Sudafed as an ingredient.  So, in order to reduce meth production grocery stores put up a cone at night so that the criminals can't get to the Sudafed.

I swear, I am not making this up.

I calmly explain that I very rarely participate in criminal activity and I certainly would not ruin my kitchen and my French copper pots (which I LOVE) to cook up batches of meth so all is well with me.  Just getting my baby Tylenol and heading back to the germy, hellhole known as my house.  Thankyouverymuch. 

The manager says that since I am not allowed to be in the aisle, he does not think that I am allowed to buy Tylenol but he is not sure.  Can I wait while he calls the day manager? 

Seriously.

"Okay, night manager guy.  You think that someone who MAKES AND DISTRIBUTES one of the most horrid and addictive drugs that our society has ever known 1) is going to be deterred by a cone 2) only shops at night, since you can buy a boatload of  Sudafed during daylight hours and 3) would not simply steal the Sudafed?  I mean, really, don't be an idiot."

Night manager has no response to this logic.  But this is the clincher:  he refuses to let me pay for the Tylenol since he does not want it on his "record" that medication was sold while he was on night duty.

This is why smart people need to have more babies.  The gene pool is getting spookily shallow.