Abigail walked into the store and looked around. When she saw that the waiting area was empty, she walked up to the doctor at the counter and said, “I gots the female trouble.” She stared at him with dark, black eyes.
“Excuse me, young miss?” the drugstore doctor judged that she couldn’t be older than seventeen.
“I gots the female trouble,” she untied the string on a small package and unwrapped a small stack of bills. “I can pay. He give me the money.”
“Look young’un, I’m a God-fearing doctor and I ain’t got any of what you looking for. And no amount of money gonna get you what you wants,” he spat on the floor.
Johnson, the other pharmacist in the drugstore, overheard the conversation and walked over. “I apologize for my colleague’s behavior. He just moved here from Alabama and has not been trained in CVS Pharmacy policies in New York City. Did I hear you right, ma’am?”
“Yes. I gots the female trouble,” she repeated. “I can pay. He give me the money.”
Dr. Johnson explained calmly, “Okay. I should let you know more of the details of the pill. The Plan B pill is taken orally and will work for five days afterward to prevent unwanted pregnancy from unprotected sex. You may experience some unpleasant side effects like stomach cramps, nausea, or exhaustion. One treatment will cost you $70.”
Abigail looked confused and then said, “I don’t need no birth control. I gots the trouble with being slow in the sack. People have given me this embarrassing nickname, Lazy Lay. Just because I get tired during and I don’t like how much darn trouble it is to clean up after. I don’t wants to be known as Lazy Lay from here high to hellwater. Do you have any medicine to help? I can pay. He give me the money.” She stared at him with dark, black eyes.
Dr. Johnson’s face turned stone cold and his voice chilled the air like the Arctic wind, “No ma’am. Ain’t no cure for the lazy lay.”
