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epitome of incomprehensibility
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I'm not sure I knew it was a pregnancy test at first. The pharmacy was vague about that. I had to pee in a cup, dip a slip of paper into the urine, and feed the paper into a printer-like machine.
The cashier looks brightly at me when it pings and a sheet swooshes out. "Congratulations!" she beams. "You won a $100 gift certificate to Pajar. Which is a store for baby supplies, which means you're pregnant. Only pregnant people win that."
I'm too shocked to talk. I take the printout and walk out.
She might not have said this, but I decide I'm five months pregnant. This seems too late to abort, not because I am attached to the potential person yet - it's attached to me! - but because I fear this is against the law. The point of no return is halfway, right?
And this is also the philosopher's child, right?? ...A temporal impossibility, but I can count time forward if not backward: I worry, half-wittily, "I'll be a 38-year-old teen mom!"
By which I mean I'll be single, poor, dependent on my parents.
But I need more information. Medical information. I return to the pharmacy - to an apologetic cashier. "I'm sorry, our system made a mistake. You're not pregnant."
Well! All that worry for nothing!! At least I can shop while I'm here. It's an expansive place, like a Jean-Coutu merged with a Dollarama. I could get candy. Soup. Holiday decorations.
A man at another counter smiles at me with sudden interest - more than customer-service friendliness. How is someone THAT good-looking and interested in me? Also, he's the only person in Montreal who's Japanese-Canadian (sure, dream_mind).
I go to his counter and he exclaims, "I heard your story! You're the one who gave birth to a rabbit, right??"
No? But I notice the live baby bunny curled into the crook of my left elbow. I'd thought that was a bag of candy or something. Easter breeds illogical magic.
(As I started waking up: "I should've known I wasn't pregnant. Pajar is winter boots, not baby products.")
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