Week one of being married has been wonderful. I’ve spent 30% of my time gushing over our wedding to David, in my head, and to anyone who will listen, 20% of my time taking pictures of the honeymoon, 30% of my time eating – really letting myself go – and the remaining 20% concerned because I am out of deodorant, and for some reason, deodorant in Spain is very expensive.
Upon realizing that my deodorant barrel was at the bottom, I headed over to a pharmacy. Pharmacies here are available on every block and are easily identified by their flashing neon signs. I entered the store, approached the woman behind the counter and proceeded to simulate rubbing my underarms with deodorant. I sniffed my underarm as well, to make it clear what I sought. She nodded, thought, and went over to her cabinet, behind the counter to find deodorant to present. She returned, showing me a small stick, and wrote 9 euros on a pad of paper for me. With the conversion, that is roughly $14, so I politely shook my head in dismay, thanked her, paid for my other selections, and headed out the door. For $14, David would have to learn to love my natural musk, I decided.