No. 2: Haemorrhoids
PHARMACIST: Good morning, sir.
YOU: Ah, pharmacist. I don’t quite know how to say this, but…
PHARMACIST: You feel like someone’s jammed a splintered plank up your ringpiece?
YOU: Good heavens, how on earth did you know?
PHARMACIST: You’re wearing a dustman’s uniform. It’s clear to me that you are just another low-earning individual who has been viciously shafted by Gordon Brown.
YOU: How embarrassing, pharmacist. Is it really that obvious?
PHARMACIST: Yes, sir. Examine your gait as captured on my CCTV system.
YOU: I thought you might let me have some Anusol Plus HC Suppositories.
PHARMACIST: I’m terribly sorry, sir, but I’ve already met my NHS targets for Anusol sales this week. I can offer you some Deep Heat instead. Rub it in your eyes and it’ll take your mind off your more embarrassing problem.
YOU: Oh, I see. Do I need a prescription?
PHARMACIST: Not at all, sir. In fact, I was going to recommend ripping it up if you had: it’s much cheaper to buy medicines privately these days.
YOU: Why, thank you, Pharmacist. You know, I was almost embarrassed to come here today, but I have found the whole process of talking about my haemorrhoids most enjoyable.