I soon found myself apologizing for being “presumptuous” as I attempted to extract further details. It was unclear why I had been summoned for this interview in the first place. “How would you describe ______?” Surely this was some kind of pre-holiday farce and I was not in on it.
What am I doing here? More importantly, what is this pony-tailed, untucked and flanneled, slubby-sock and work-booted lumberjack doing wearing short pants? In December no less? A grown man. A boss. At work. Short pants. December.
Really it was his attitude that did things in. The defensive tone in the line of questioning and the condescending nature that my responses were met with, assured me that this dynamic would never work.
Unfortunately, my anxiety outweighed my logic. To my credit, instead of dealing with the trouble before me like a typical American consumer – which might have entailed demanding I speak with the equivalent to this short-panted person’s “corporate office” – I decided to tackle my racing heart and increasing paranoia from a more holistic perspective. This was made possible in one of the most unlikely neighborhoods in Providence.
Having only previously driven by, I was uncertain whether they stocked the good stuff I sought. Upon entering I found myself surrounded by mint green walls and a sterile looking bounty of herbal remedies. Before salutations, I rushed over to the petite woman positioned by the display case and began making product inquires. “For my nerves,” I explained. She guided me to the wall, while offering recommendations.
I then noticed a large stainless scale and small, off-shooting hallway, with what appeared to be tiny rooms of the same pale viridescence. It began to feel like a walk-in, albeit one that perhaps only Silverlake could deliver. I finally responded, “No, I’m afraid that won’t be strong enough.”
And then, I found it. Dried up, twice-wrapped in cellophane – thus containing its pungent, earthy aroma – my cure for all that ailed me, with a price-point that was as equally satisfying.
Most natural stores only have this magical plant in byproduct form, so it is a rare treat when offered in bulk. I could not wait to get my head straight, but there was more.
As I write this very piece, I am able to do so, completely at ease – under the influence of my big score. A strong cup of tea made from pieces of valerian root that I had procured on that very day. Valerian root.
What? Did you think…? Really? No, this is a health store and as I soon found out from the small talk with the cashier, Natural Medicina specializes in weight loss. That would explain the scale and the examination rooms (presumably used for taking measurements or other in-private, weight-loss counseling moments).
It is my wish that this un-yelped gem, not far from the Johnston border, along with their knowledgable and pleasant service, great prices and the surprise that they sell healthy alternative medicines – and don’t sell weed – stands as a reminder to do things a bit differently in the new year. If nothing else, commit to what I believe are attainable resolutions for 2015:
- Venture out more, to unfamiliar places
- Try not to sweat things so much
- Shed those 10 pounds, accrued by holiday gluttony (perhaps a weight loss program at Medicina Natural)
- Stop speaking ill of people in a semi-public manner (unless they wear shorts)
Speaking of which, after all that, I got a call back from short pants, about the job.
Ok, fine. No more speaking ill, starting … now.
Medicina Natural, 318 Pocasset Ave, PVD; 401.946.0504