Retail Scrapbook A prescription for life from the "Pharmacy America Trusts"
By Laura Kinch, Jayplay writer
As the sliding doors open and I breathe in the distinct scent of mothballs, women's perfume and candy, I am flooded with childhood memories.
This strange relationship began when I was a five-year-old and I was sick. I would stop by Walgreens with my mom to pick up my prescription. When I got the bottle of pink medication that tasted like bubble gum I knew that everything was going to be all right.
I have many childhood memories that are unique to Walgreens, such as going to the store on Christmas morning to get the batteries that would make my new toys work, picking up pictures with my sister and laughing as we looked at them right there at the photo counter, buying giant boxes of Junior Mints, Milk Duds and Snow Caps before going to see a movie, and spending 45 minutes in the perfume and cosmetics section looking for the newest flavor of Bonne Bell Lip Smackers and spraying on layers of Sunflower's perfume.
The randomness of Walgreens is the aspect that I love the most: a display of neatly stacked light bulbs sits next to tins of Oreo cookies and cans of Hormel chili accompany gallons of windshield washer fluid.
When I was 11, my parents got divorced and my mother, my sisters and I moved to a new town. My 11 year-old life had become a whirlwind of unexpected events. After the divorce and the move, I felt a sense of loss and
thought that nothing was going to be the same. I realized that my life wasn't following a straight and narrow path, but instead it was taking unexpected and random detours.
But then my mother got a job at the Walgreens corporate office in Deerfield, Ill. Every night she would bring home an envelope of chocolate orange slices, caramels or packets of Pop Rocks. My sisters and I would wait until after dinner for her to bring out the envelope of special treats. Every Christmas, Walgreens would host an employee party and invite all of the kids to eat lunch, get Walgreens Christmas presents and spend the day with their parents. I would brag to my friends about the paradise that I found inside the walls of the Walgreen corporate office. Even though everything around me was changing, the comforting feeling associated with Walgreens remained the same.
Now I'm 22-years-old and I see that life's unexpected detours, just like the mismatched displays at Walgreens, may be random but are all there for a reason. I learned that like the store, my life and my family have a special character that is positively unique and should not be critiqued but embraced.
- Laura Kinch can be reached at lkinch@kansan.com.
5.13.04 Jayplay
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