Hibernopharmacophobia
Or, the aversion to medication manufactured in Ireland.
Bag Lady, the shiny-skinned lady who is known and where possible avoided by library staff across the borough, was in this morning. Because of my weirdo magnetism and extraordinary patience with non-threatening forms of insanity, she likes me and greeted me like a long-lost friend, rather than someone who was fit to be tied after spending an hour searching for a name that was (1) of Hebrew or Native American extraction, (2) had a meaning relating to a an animal (but only a cute animal, not anything large or hooved or feathered), and (3) did not begin with most of the letters of the alphabet. When I actually found a name that fit the bill (at least according to a website, but by then my standards were low and dropping fast), she didn't like the sound of it.
This morning's query involved waving a bottle of metronidazole tablets at me and demanding to know where they'd been manufactured, because if the medicine was filthy Irish she didn't want to take it. The label named a pharmaceutical company in Greenford, Middlesex, but the chemist (no doubt wishing to be rid of her) had told her they were German. After searching the Internet and print directories to no avail, I ended up phoning the company who confirmed the plant was indeed in Greenford.
The Witch (who is Irish herself) was in stitches when I told her. Now I know what Asperger's Syndrome looks like, apparently, because the Witch spent two hours diagnosing her!
Bag Lady, the shiny-skinned lady who is known and where possible avoided by library staff across the borough, was in this morning. Because of my weirdo magnetism and extraordinary patience with non-threatening forms of insanity, she likes me and greeted me like a long-lost friend, rather than someone who was fit to be tied after spending an hour searching for a name that was (1) of Hebrew or Native American extraction, (2) had a meaning relating to a an animal (but only a cute animal, not anything large or hooved or feathered), and (3) did not begin with most of the letters of the alphabet. When I actually found a name that fit the bill (at least according to a website, but by then my standards were low and dropping fast), she didn't like the sound of it.
This morning's query involved waving a bottle of metronidazole tablets at me and demanding to know where they'd been manufactured, because if the medicine was filthy Irish she didn't want to take it. The label named a pharmaceutical company in Greenford, Middlesex, but the chemist (no doubt wishing to be rid of her) had told her they were German. After searching the Internet and print directories to no avail, I ended up phoning the company who confirmed the plant was indeed in Greenford.
The Witch (who is Irish herself) was in stitches when I told her. Now I know what Asperger's Syndrome looks like, apparently, because the Witch spent two hours diagnosing her!