MEMOIR
Fay’s Drugs and What We Did In a Shopping Cart Up Finney Blvd.
The three of us couldn’t resist
“Kristi, I dare you to get into the shopping cart,” he said.
He always had a way of getting me on a dare. I couldn’t resist — he knew me too well. It was a snowy obscure time of the year in 1983— certainly before Christmas because cheerleading tryouts for the basketball season were the next day. But not that early because we were well into the snow and ice season in Malone, which started pretty much at the end of October.
I was thirteen years old and always looking for some kind of innocent trouble to get into. Of course, that’s what we did in the isolated North Country of New York. There wasn’t much more for kids our age (well, of any age) to do.
It was normal to have a shit ton of snow days per year, and they were allotted into our school year. It was inevitable with the number of blizzards and ice storms we received yearly, and this day was one of them. Blizzards and ice storms, however, did not keep us from wandering out like we were in The Revenant or something
“No…I don’t want to,” I responded.
We were standing at Fay’s Drugs, which sounds like it could be trouble, but it wasn’t — it’s just where old ladies went to buy…
