The Magic Little Pill

By Todd Maguire on October 25, 2012 in Other

Poor Don had been having a rough trot. He had been knocked for six with the flu, some bludger had pinched his car and his beloved Roosters had been sidestepping a win for a month. But the nemesis that had been eating away at him more than anything was far too embarrassing to discuss with anyone. Finally he relented, jumped on the bus and paid his doctor a visit.

Despite Don being well into his retirement years, he was as bashful as a pubescent teenager. “Things with the wife aren’t going so well,” he started. “I don’t seem to have much lead in my pencil, if you know what I mean.” The doctor was all ears. “The wife doesn’t seem to be satisfied as the ‘old fella’ just doesn’t want to come out and ‘play hooky’ anymore.”

The doctor listened intently and did his best to hold back a chuckle at Don’s matter of fact explanation. “You’re not Robinson Crusoe here, Don. There are plenty of blokes out there who have exactly the same problem.” He retrieved a small jar of pills from his bottom drawer. “Take one of these at home half an hour before you get on the job tonight and your wife will think all her Christmases have come at once. But only have them at home; these pills are very strong.”

Don was relieved how simple the doctor had made things seem. He left the surgery with a song in his heart and a spring in his step. As he waited at the bus stop for the short ride home, he eyed the label of the bottle of pills: ‘Viagra’. Take one half an hour before doing the business, the doctor had said. Don looked at his watch and calculated that he would be home in about ten minutes. The wife was at home, so when he got there he’d be fully booted and spurred. Ready to go.

Don’s eagerness got the better of him. As the bus pulled up, he swallowed one of the little pills and jumped aboard. There wasn’t a spare seat on the bus. It suddenly dawned on Don that it was now just after five o’clock – peak hour. His home was only four stops away, but at each stop the driver loaded up more and more passengers. It was becoming a tight squeeze and the traffic seemed to have intensified. “I could have walked faster,” Don lamented to himself.

The crowded bus was at a complete standstill as Don suddenly felt a strange tingle around his crotch. A bead of sweat formed on his brow as his loins stirred. His heart started to race as the magic pill began to prove its worth. Unfortunately this wasn’t really the time or the place.

As the bus crawled to Don’s bus stop, he attempted to make his way to the exit door. But squeezing through a crowded bus with his manhood standing to attention was more difficult than expected. When a young lady was poked in the backside by Don’s uncontrollable friendliness, all hell broke loose.

“Get away from me you filthy old man!” She screamed and swung her handbag, cracking Don fair and square on the head. “Keep it to yourself, you pervert!”

The bus came to a halt at Don’s stop and the poor fellow was sent hurtling off seeing stars, clutching at his head. As he regrouped on the footpath, he sat on a fence and reached for his handkerchief to stem the trickle of blood from his wound.

The doctor’s surgery was only just back up the road so Don retraced his steps to seek first aid. Following a blow-by-blow description of the event and a few stitches, Don’s virility finally subsided. Dr Maloney clipped Don across the ear and sternly repeated his warning: “Only take this pill in the safety of your home. Heaven forbid taking it and hailing a crowded bus.”

This time Don took heed of the doctor’s severe warning. When he finally got home he felt a fool. He hid the little pills in the back of his drawer for another time. He had seen more than enough action for one day.