The Adventure of the Saturday of the Second Week in Ordinary Time

Once on a Saturday of the Second Week in Ordinary Time, sanabituranima and I went to St Cuthbert's to say the Rosary. But then we were told by our priest that the rosary "wasn't on this week," so we went away.
Hereupon we went to Boots to get something for my cold sore. I asked the woman at the counter for something; she said she would get the pharmacist to have a look at it because it looked quite bad; and I again asked the pharmacist if she had anything for cold sores, and she said she did but that that looked worse than a cold sore - it looked... infected, she said, in a very severe tone that made it sound as though I was extremely wicked because bacteria, not only viruses, were eating my face. She told me to go to a walk-in centre immediately to see a doctor. So we left Boots; then we realized that neither of us knew where a walk-in centre was. So we went to the DSU to find someone to direct us; but there was no one there who could help us. So I suggested going back to Boots, where someone might know - I didn't want the pharmacist who had just reprimanded me (as it seemed) to overhear the conversation, but I think she did; I asked if I could be directed to the nearest NHS walk-in centre, to which the response of my interlocutor was to provide me with the telephone number of NHS Direct. Having gone out of Boots again, I rang this number, and after a computer had offered me the choice of pressing any of about four buttons, I spoke to a human being, and asked again where this walk-in centre was. I was told I could speak to a nurse, or he could direct me to a walk-in centre. I asked for what I had just asked for - the nurse on the telephone would, I presumed, not be able to see me, and in any case I was about to go and see someone in a minute. I was told that the nearest walk-in centre to Collingwood College, DH1 3LT, was 11 Shelley Road, Bournemouth, BH1 something or other; I can only presume that he misheard my postcode, though when he said "It's about a mile away from where you are," I thought that perhaps there was a village that sounded like Bournemouth (maybe Falmouth or Alnmouth pronounced in a strange way) not far away. But we went to Palace Green library, and asked the Internet; and the man had indeed directed me to Bournemouth. Well, we certainly weren't going there. There were two walk-in centres in Newcastle, one in Gateshead, and one in Stockton; we decided to go to Stockton. But deciding that we would need change for the bus - or sanabituranima would, though I could use my campus card as a ticket - I then went to Tesco's, so that I would get some change. I bought two cartons of orange juice and a bottle of bitter lemon; I paid for it on the self-service machine, but used my debit card. Then I realized that this had not provided any change. We would probably not get the bus we had meant to catch now, so we went to a café and had lunch. Then we went to the bus stop; and as we were arriving, the next bus was leaving. So we waited in Elvet Riverside, in order not to miss a third bus. Then we succeeded on getting the next bus. On this bus we said five decades of the rosary. We reached Stockton; and then we realized that although I had the address (and the telephone number) of the place, we did not know where we were going. We asked the woman in the Arriva travel centre if she knew where it was; she didn't, but she said that "the boys" might. Presently she told us to get Stagecoach 59, a bus which as far as we could see did not exist. Then, because I needed the toilet, we went into a pub, called the Stag, where there were some people. We had some food and drink and I went to the toilet; and we decided that we would try to find somewhere to buy a map. We wandered through Stockton, into a shopping centre; there we saw a Boots, and went into it and I bought some Zovirax for my face. I asked the woman at the till if she knew where this place was; she didn't, and she asked her colleagues, who didn't either. She suggested that I speak to the pharmacist; so I asked the pharmacist, who said, "I didn't think it was at that address any more," and then she asked among her colleagues. Shortly, some directions were written on the paper. We then got a taxi, and after some communication difficulties, arrived; it was now the middle of the afternoon. I filled in a form, sat down, and watched the television that was on in this waiting-room; there were some schoolchildren on, or rather in, the television who were talking about what made them stressed. A voice said "David Mitchell;" I did not really notice it; but then it suddenly occurred to me that I was David Mitchell, and I got up. The woman asked me if, before I was in Durham, I had been in Colchester; evidently they had my old address on the system. Yes, I said. We went through; and the doctor gave me flucloxacillin, which I have to take four times a day - it is for the bacteria, not the herpes simplex virus which causes the cold sore. I have the zovirax for the cold sore.
Then we realized we needed to get back somehow; so we got the bus; then we went to Boots where I handed in my prescription and was told it would be about ten minutes. sanabituranima and I then examined the multifarious species of toothpaste sold by Boots the Chemist, and came to the conclusion that "oral rinse" was, translated into English, "mouthwash;" and I bought a packet of Fruitella. My prescription wasn't ready for another few minutes; but after (I think) the application of Zovirax, I went back to the pharmacist, and after I had told them the address which is not actually my current address but was the one I knew they had on the system, I was given my antibiotics; and then we decided it was time to go home.
So we went to the bus stop; we saw the bus X1, or 1X, whichever it was, and walked towards it, and as we did so it left. Shortly afterwards I suggested to sanabituranima that we go inside Debenhams, where it would, I imagined, be warmer than outside; and it was. We sat in the café, and then we left the café and went back to the bus-stop; and eventually the bus arrived at the next stand, and we got on it, and said evening prayer on the bus; and there was an evil advertisement for LARCs (Lasting And Reliable Contraceptives) - in fact there were two - on the bus. Not that having someone shove a T-shaped copper thing in your uterus is better than not having sex; but the idea that it is is called advertising.

So is this:

"No, you shall not die the death. For God knows that in what day soever you shall eat thereof, your eyes shall be opened: and you shall be as Gods, knowing good and evil.
And the woman saw that the tree was good to eat, and fair to the eyes, and delightful to behold: and she took of the fruit thereof, and ate, and gave to her husband, who ate."

Gen. iii, 4 to 6.

Anyway, passing by the advert for unpleasant and evil things, we did not get off at Elvet Riverside, for we did not ring the bell; we got off at the station; then I started walking the wrong way, then we turned round. Then I observed that we didn't have time to go to confession or to Mass; sanabituranima asked me if Mass was at 5.30, which it was - so there was just enough time to get there if we walked quickly. We arrived during the first hymn. The sermon was extremely bizarre. The priest kept talking about people who are "blind to their own goodness." I thought Jesus might have been somewhat more concerned about people who were blind to their own evil; but then I am but a base layman and do not understand things which are above my intellect.

After Mass, since we were in Gilesgate, we visited my old housemates; and after this we endeavoured to find somewhere to eat. I didn't want to eat at Rajpooth since it would have been very filling; but we went into four restaurants (not including Rajpooth) before we got a table. We ate dinner (though there was a large gap between the starter and the main course), and we both lived happily ever after for two whole days.