Occupational Hazard

The pharmacist at my local grocery store is hot. In fact, I'm not entirely convinced that Viggo Mortensen isn't moonlighting between films at the South Jordan Harmon's. I'm not typically the swoony type but this man's overt attractiveness kicks in my baser instincts and I can't walk past the Drop-Off counter without an outfit check and a breath mint.

Being incredibly, incredibly, good looking isn't usually something one could categorize as a liability, but medical grade hotness may be an occupational hazard for a pharmacist.

Consider that human sexuality is driven by evolutionary forces. Health and vitality are key elements of attraction. Are you going to sultrily walk up to Dr. Adonis' counter with a prescription for Vagistat? Would you flirtatiously toss your hair while confidently inquiring the difference in effectivity between the generic and name brand hemorrhoidal creams? How many times do you think you can you claim with false pretense that its all "for a friend"? With your name on the prescription, you are bound to be discovered for the sickly liar that you are.

That's why (until I have to fill a prescription for nymphomania) I'm going to Target. The pharmacist there wears dorky glasses, talks to me about his Lego collection, and never, never makes me blush.

CC