SIMULATED FLATULENCE (Story No. 3)

It had been about three months since I had become registered as a pharmacist and had joined my dad ( Levi ) to work in the family business which by that time had been moved off the town square and relocated in a medical complex about six blocks south of town. It was sort of like trying to walk on egg shells at that time because Levi had really done nothing in the way of initiating me into the business other that emptying a salt shaker in my coffee while my attention was diverted or putting napkins in my cheeseburger ! So, you get the feeling that something much more worthy of his laughter was going to happen. Well, one afternoon shortly before closing time, it finally happened. I became a certified member of Levi's big-time "gotcha" club.

Levi and myself were all alone in the pharmacy which was to close in approximately ten minutes. It was not uncommon for a prescription customer to enter at that late hour and , of course, we always stayed late if needed. On this particular late afternoon a nicely dressed lady in about her mid-forties walked in and handed me her prescription for an asthma inhaler. She was from out of town and had stopped to see one of the physicians next to our pharmacy for treatment of what she believed to be an oncoming asthma attack. I began to fill her prescription as I faced her from behind the prescription counter when, suddenly, out of my peripheral vision, I noticed a crawling figure approaching my right foot! It was Levi, crawling on his "all-fours", sporting a sinister grin and no doubt up to something socially inappropriate. Keep in mind that the customer out front could not see him at all but could see the troubling expression on my face. Levi then stops crawling about two feet from my right foot and pulls from beneath his shirt
a rubber object which to my misfortune I recognized to be ye 'ol "whoopee cushion". The customer , no doubt, saw my expression then change to that of the spot-lighted deer or that of the coyote about to meet with disaster in the "roadrunner" cartoons! He mashed the cushion not once...not twice...but a definitive three times! The last whoopee retort was the most pronounced of the three. The lady customer could not help herself. She covered her mouth in effort to smother her laughter but just couldn't. She turned three shades of red while wheezing and shaking uncontrollably. For a few seconds, which seemed to be an eternity, I was frozen in my stance. I then finally discovered enough composure to turn to the immediate right, step over "Levi", and exit the Rx department. I walked into the storage room at the very back of the pharmacy and could still hear that lady's muffled laughter. Levi had to launch the crowning blow, however, and told the lady that he would finish her prescription. He apologized to her and said, "I'm sorry but my son, the other pharmacist, has an acute intestinal disorder and had to run next door to the Dr.!". I never saw that lady again, thank goodness, but after she left I heard Levi's laughter like never before. Yes, you might have guessed it, people in my hometown to this very day still ask me if I ever got over my physical disorder! In remembrance of Levi, I just smile and say, "No, and I guess I never will." A true story.

Nasty Old Yard Man

Circa 1955 my dad attended a T.V.A. auction on the Scottsboro courthouse lawn. T.V.A. was auctioning lakefront property that bordered Roseberry Lake which is backwater fed from the Tennessee River. Levi was able to purchase, in my opinion, the most scenic lot on the auction block! It wasn't that he was the wealthiest bidder on site but probably the most knowledgeable. You see, he had spent much of his life fishing Roseberry and the Tennessee River and was very familiar with the land up for sale. By 1957 we were moving into our new home and shortly thereafter is where story number two begins.

Story No. 2 (The Nasty Old Yard Man)


It was a typically hot and humid summer afternoon in Scottsboro and Levi was mowing his one-acre yard on his tractor mower, dressed in his usual work attire....false teeth out...Liberty overalls with no shirt...straw hat and hair down in his eyes. He was mowing close to the residential road that passed in front of our home when suddenly a black Fleetwood Cadillac stopped on the roadside, blew its horn, and a hand out of the drivers window motioned for Levi to approach the car. Levi stopped the tractor and walked to the driver's window to discover Mrs. Fletcher B. of Scottsboro, who certainly did not recognize Levi without his teeth and dressed as a homeless unfortunate. The wealthy aristocratic Mrs. B. removed her sunglasses and informed my dad that she was in the market for one to mow the grounds of her estate and inquired of Levi what he was charging to mow this yard. Levi removed his straw hat, scratched his head and replied, "Well, to tell the truth lady, I don't charge this lady a thing. She lets me sleep with her!" Mrs. B. replied, "Well, I have never in my life!". She then proceeded to floorboard her accelerator and speed off spraying gravel all over Levi and his yard. In the weeks to follow Mrs. B. came in my dad's drugstore to get a prescription filled. She couldn't resist pulling Levi aside for a private conversation. "R.L." , as he was known to her, "You have the most vulgar, nasty old yard man mowing your yard! He even boasted to me that he was sleeping with your wife. You need to get rid of that old man as soon as possible!". Levi pretended to be embarrassed and replied, "Sure thing Mrs. B. I'll take care of that today!"

Mrs. B. from that day on never knew that grotesque old critter and Levi were the same. He never told her but everyone else in town, it seemed, did know! Zelma, my mom, didn't find this Levi gotcha so funny. It was no wonder to me that Levi chose to sleep in the guest room for several nights. My mom seemed to think it was a good idea, I do remember that!

A true story folks..just some more of Levi's Laughter!
To be continued......

Introduction and story number 1

For sometime to come...at least until I run out of yarn....I'll be posting one anecdote after another about my father, R.L. Hodges, Jr., who, prior to his passing in January of 1984, became a legend of the practical joke in his hometown of Scottsboro, Al. I'm his youngest son, Doug. Levi, as my dad was known, was a pharmacist in Scottsboro from 1938 to 1978. I joined him as a pharmacist in the family business from 1972 to 1978. All the posts that you will read are true stories, no bull about this blog! Most of these hilarious drugstore "gotchas" occurred during my younger years helping my dad at Hodges Drug Store at whatever assignment he gave me after school. This could be delivering ...sweeping floors...soda jerking..or cashier. You might wonder about the title of this blog, Levi's Laughter. My dad had a very unique way of laughing, much the same as a donkey's bray with a tenor pitch! When you heard it, you knew that you'd been had. Well folks, grab your chair arms and brace yourselves for some funny stuff!


PINEAPPLE SHERBET

Hodges Drug was open every Sunday morning to accommodate prescription customers and those going to and from church. Mr. Paul C. was a regular each Sunday morning at 9:30 A.M. on his way to Sunday school. He always ordered the same dish...a double dip of pineapple sherbet and a glass of ice water. I happened to be standing at the end of the soda fountain near the ice cream cooler behind which my dad was waiting to serve Mr. Paul C. "Same as usual, Paul?" my dad asked. "You betcha" replied Paul. Levi then takes out the ice cream scoop and with the precision of an ancient Greek sculptor begins to curl out two huge scoops of "Crisco" cooking fat and places them in an ice cream dish. Paul did not hesitate. He spooned out a portion large enough to cook two orders of fries...chewed only about twice..then swallowed it all before realizing the snow white stuff in his dish was something extremely foreign to pineapple sherbet! He gagged..then coughed..then spit..and finally ran to the restroom in the rear of the store. When he finally returned to the soda fountain counter the rest of the fifty some odd people in the drugstore had been cued in as to what had happened. Mr. Paul C. with a trace of "Crisco" on his chin and still drooling from the mouth said, "Levi, I wonder if all these people laughing right now know that your pineapple sherbet ain't any damn better than Crisco shortening!". Paul C. never
ordered pineapple sherbet again.

To be continued.........