A Small Snapshot Of Life In The Liberal Paradise That Is California.

Ok this wasn't small talk anymore.......this was definitely medium talk. Holy crap this is medium talk, and I would have been more than happy just getting small talk from this woman.

I should explain. The hottest chick ever to walk into a pharmacy had just asked me where I used to work. One of the oddest things I have learned in my decade-plus in the happy pill room is that hot women don't get prescriptions filled. I don't know why. Maybe their hotness immediately incinerates any disease causing organisms that are deposited on their skin. Yes, there is the birth control pill, but they never want counselling on the birth control pill. Oral contraceptives are potent medications ladies. Seriously, you should talk to me about them instead of just zipping through the drive through while I am tied up talking to the woman with a beard about her foot corns.

The woman in front of me at this moment though was the total exception that proved the rule. The incredible, long, wavy, flowing red hair was just a start, I could go on all day about this woman's hotness, about her habit of showing a little more cleavage than average, about how the fact that she was indeed picking up the birth control pill took away any worries about popping out a shortie. There was just very little more you could want in a customer.

She had been coming in for a few months now, and made a little small talk each time. I have learned my lesson from perfect skin woman and managed to make a little small talk back. The weather....traffic.....sports came up once I think. But I'm pretty sure her question about where I used to work qualified as medium talk. Whoo-Hoo me...things were looking up.....

"I used to work in (insert name of poverty ridden ghetto town here)" I reply.

"Oh, I bet you like it a lot better here away from all those disgusting Mexicans" she says in an incredibly sweet, soft tone. She honest to God thought that was a flirtworthy line.

I'm lucky I didn't implode from the change in air pressure as my hopes to score with hotness deflated at a record pace. I'll admit I briefly considered making a move anyway. I have pretended to be a Christian before in order to score, so pretending to be an official racist wouldn't be that far of a stretch. Then I remembered how the deal with the Christan lady ended, and knew that this woman's thoughts made her ugly. Crap.

She would make a hell of a stripper though. In a perfect world she'd be taking it off for pesos.