There’s nothing like a trip to the local chemist to understand how much physical pain is being endured by your fellow citizens. There are the painkiller tablets, of course; then the pain-relieving ointments for topical application; then the selection of elasticised supports for various misbehaving body parts. Really, it is a miracle humanity manages to get out of bed in the morning.
Up to a certain age, providing you are lucky enough to have normal health, you hardly notice this stuff. The accoutrements of ageing slide past your youthful eye. At 18 or 19, it’s all a blur.
A visit to the chemist means condoms, a packet of birth control pills or, if you’ve turned over a new leaf, some nicotine patches. There’s nothing like a trip to the local chemist to understand how much physical pain is being endured by your fellow citizens. Credit: Getty Images Sure, you might throw in a packet of barley sugar drops, but only so you can hide the condoms while waiting at the counter.
After all, Mrs Kerfoops might spot you. A decade-and-a-half later, you’re in your 30s and it’s all changed. A visit to the chemist now means nappy rash cream and a bottle of Phenergan (for you, not the toddler).
You might throw in some Napisan and a packet of wet wipes, but only if you’re in a festive mood. Then, in your 40s, you start creeping deeper into the store. The world of soccer, or netball, or rugby, still needs you – well, that’s your delusion – even if your continued participation .