The Importance of Being Annoying

(The following is a paraphrase of a conversation had last week. Participants have not been named. Except one of them is quite obviously me.)

"Yes, what can I do for you?"

"Well, I'm heading off to a malaria rich enviroment in the next twelve months and am told that malaria poses certain risks to human health. Like extreme sickness, with permenant effects including death..."

"Right."

"... And I'd like to protect myself from said risks... "

"Uh huh."

" ... I'm told that there are some medications I should take as part of my 'not dying' philosophy?"

"Like what?"

"I was kind of hoping you might tell me."

"Where abouts are you going?"

"North India."

"Where's that? Africa?"

"Close. Asia."

"Right." (Goes and has a look at extremley exciting looking MALARIAL TREATMENTS! poster) "Looks like you'll need a combination of chloroquin proguanil."

"Okay, great."

"My pleasure."

(Pause)

"Could you, uh, maybe write that down for me?"

"What?"

"Write it down. Sorry, I'm just afraid I'll forget it five minutes after walking out of this room."

"What, on paper?"

"If that's okay with you."

"Fine." (Begins to rifle across desk though, ironically, mounds of paper. Muttering something which sounds very much like 'fancy not being able to spell chloroquine.' as he does. Finally he hands across a piece of paper bearing the phrase "CHLOROQUININIE PROGUANIL.") "Okay?"

"So I can get this at any pharmacy?"

"Probably."

"Perhaps I should check with the pharmacist as I do so? Just to be sure?"

"Why don't you do that?"

"Thank you."