Duane Reade
1150 Ave of the Americas
New York, NY 10036
(212) 221-3588
Category: Drugstores
Neighborhood: Manhattan/Theater District
4 star rating
02/13/2007 First to Review
A Valentine's tale.
On a business trip in New York. I have worked for almost 2 weeks straight with no days off, and part of my job involves setting up displays. So I get sore and tired, which combined with the constant throbbing of the balls of my feet from pounding the pavement in heels, makes me one sad excuse for a human being.
After a long day, I find myself at Duane Reade. Drugstores are very calming to me, with their rows and rows of cosmetics and home supplies. I love Duane Reade because you can spend hours in there and no one bugs you. I am a browser. Let me browse.
So I gather a few things for a self-soothing night in my hotel room which include 3 or 4 magazines, a face mask, and a Dr. Scholl's personal massager. (because I am sore! swear to god). I'm walking around hugging my finds, when I hear "Hi, Liz, fancy running into you here". I spin around and look straight into the face of one of my male co-workers, who is new to the company and a very nice guy. Well of course, he can't help himself, and his eyes go right to my personal massager, which might as well have had neon lights calling attention to it. He quickly looks up and we have this very choppy interchange, and I can tell he is saying to himself "don't look down, don't look down" and I am talking a blue streak about absolutely nothing, just to fill the silence. In situations like this, I excel at making a bad situation worse. I kept saying how I needed a massage but didn't have time to get one, so I found this great massager for only $17.99 and meanwhile I am saying to myself, "My god! Stop talking about it! Stop! You sound like you're making excuses" But I can't stop. AWKWARD!
So of course we end up in the ONE CHECKOUT LINE right next to each other, and I have to ask for Double A batteries, which I try to do discreetly, but of course the sales people have to have a loud conversation about how they only have 8 packs which makes no sense at all, and I said, "That's fine, it's fine, really, I'll take the 8 pack!" Phew. Never thought I would get out of there.
Next day, co-worker says, "So how was your...um, foot massage?" and I said "Oh it was great, great, just what I needed. You should really get one, they're really great. How were your snacks? Great. Well, bye!" Cringe. I don't think anyone made eye contact.
The moral of the story? What happens at Duane Reade stays at Duane Reade. NOT.
I still heart Duane Reade. One-stop shopping for all of your, uh, needs.
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