Adrienne Writes

It was 10 p.m. on a Saturday night.

A female friend and I were heading home from the Robin Thicke concert at The Vic in Chicago. She had stomach cramps, so she needed to stop at Walgreens. So we stopped.

I decided to get some Zyrtec, strawberry ice cream and a black and mild. My friend, who I’ll call Sarah, got the usual supplies for her condition.

Whilst we were grabbing said supplies, we saw a teeny little girl running around. She asked us if we’d seen her brother. Then a cop approached. He was a big guy with a big stomach and he kinda resembled Charlie Rangel. The cop told the little girl that her little brother was in the candy aisle. Then he turns to me and says: ” I took home ten kids like this just an hour ago. They momma sent them to this here store, to get stuff. And that’s terrible. These kids need to be watched, they need to be at home!”

Sarah and I agree. It’s never good to have mom ask the kid to go to the store and bring her back a fifth of vodka. Sarah turns to pick up some toilet paper. I wait.

Cop speaks again: “You know them parents act like the devil sometimes, what with what they do to these kids. Poking them in the ass, opening up they coochies and sticking things in there.”

Sarah and I exchange wary glances. At first he was funny, but this? This is not the type of thing you expect a cop to say to you in Walgreens.

Cop leans in, touches Sarah on the shoulder like they’re close friends.

Cop speaks again: “You know the Lord don’t like that gay stuff. You aren’t born that way, you decide to be a pansy. You gone burn in hell.”

Sarah and I decide to keep walking. So now we’re in the pharmacy area. She’s perusing tampons. I’m perusing bottles of Zyrtec. Hmm. $15? $18 or $25? That is the question for me at that moment.

I grab a bottle. Sarah grabs her female stuff. We walk back toward the cashier.

Cop yells out: “You sick? Are you sick? What’s ailing you? You need to come down to my church and let my pastor lay hands on you to shame out that devil.”

Sarah and I rush to the counter.

Cop yells more: “You know them gay people, they just put Vaseline on they fingers and stick it to each other. They just do all kinds of unnatural things. Those gay people.”

Sarah and I are still in line. It’s a loooong line.

I say to her: “Does he think we’re gay? Is that why he keeps talking about anal sex? Do gay women even have anal sex with each other? Why is he talking about laying hands on me? I don’t want him touching me.”

She says: “I think he does think that.”

I say: “Have you ever heard someone describe using Vaseline in that way? Not even my gay friends talk about that kind of stuff with me. I would imagine that intimate sexual details are just that – intimate.”

Cop yells: “Lemme lay hands on you! It’s unnatural!!”

We’re freaked out.

We’re both Christians, but we also believe that when some folks touch you, they might try to pass along some bad juju – especially if they’re carrying a gun and talking so graphically in a sexual manner.

Finally we pay for our food and escape the Walgreens.

Shouldn’t that cop be out catching criminals or something?

Wait. No. He’s inside Walgreens hunting down lesbians.