Photo courtesy Shakti Rajpurohit via Unsplash

The day after New Year’s, I entered a neighborhood pharmacy.

I lived in a Thai neighborhood far from the tourist sector, so the chances that the staff spoke English were low-to-zero. Therefore, I had preprogrammed my translator app. Although I studied Thai, I wasn’t polished enough to explain my issue without a lot of gesticulating, which I ruled out. Armed with my electronic dictionary, I pushed through the glass doors with confidence.

Two women in matching employee polo shirts stood ready to help me. I handed my phone to the first woman. She looked at it, then handed it over to the second woman. We were standing opposite one another on either side of the counter.

Unfortunately, the woman squinted hard at my phone—clearly she needed reading glasses but didn’t have them. Squinting and squinting… when a Thai man not wearing a matching employee polo shirt and munching on a cookie wandered over.

Looking over the woman’s shoulder and reading my phone,

he announced to the whole pharmacy, “VAGINAL YEAST INFECTION.” I winced, but glancing around, it was obvious no one understood him. Unfortunately for me, the woman also didn’t understand, so the man announced my condition in Thai.
“Ahh,” said the woman. Now the whole store knew why I was in there.

The man—with cookie crumbs tumbling down his T-shirt—instructed the woman where to fetch the medicine. I put my phone away. Who needed quiet indiscretion when there was a man with a booming voice and excellent English skills?

Continuing in his thunderous voice he said, PUT IN BEFORE GOING TO SLEEP. ONLY ONE TIME, OK?

God love him—eating cookies at 8:30am. All he needed was a milk mustache.