Pharmacie de Pourtoules

About this location

A few stories people tell about this place

1. One foggy morning, a delivery driver pulled up to Pharmacie de Pourtoules with a crate of mysterious bottles. As he stepped inside, the pharmacist asked him, ‘Do you know what these are?’ The driver shook his head, and that’s when things got curious. The pharmacist smiled mysteriously and replied, 'They’re elixirs for eternal youth.' The driver laughed nervously, thinking it was some prank. But as he left, rubbing his nose where he’d sneezed from the strong fumes, he overheard the pharmacist say to a neighbor, ‘Just one sniff, and they’ll believe anything!’

2. At dawn, when most pharmacies were still locked tight, an old man shuffled into Pharmacie de Pourtoules. He carried a small bag and muttered something about 'the last of its kind'. The night clerk raised an eyebrow but nodded discreetly. Finally, after some rustling and muttering, he produced a dusty bottle from his bag. ‘This,’ he said, pointing at it with a trembling finger, ‘is what keeps our little town alive.’ The night clerk smiled knowingly and shook his head. By sunrise, everyone knew that Pharmacie de Pourtoules had something special—even if no one could quite agree on what it was.

3. Late one night, as the moon hung low over New Orleans, a delivery driver pulled up to Pharmacie de Pourtoules. The air was heavy with the scent of old books and something else—an oddly familiar whiff of mint and cloves. As he entered, an ancient pharmacist peered over his spectacles and asked, ‘What brings you so late?’ With a twinkle in his eye, the delivery driver replied, ‘Just some special order for a neighborhood voodoo queen.’ The pharmacist nodded knowingly, mixing up a mysterious concoction that smelled like a cross between a birthday cake and a tropical storm. As the driver left, he heard someone whispering behind him, ‘And don’t forget your lucky mint leaf!’

4. At midnight, when even the city’s shadows seemed to sleep, a delivery driver approached Pharmacie de Pourtoules with a peculiar package. The sign above the door read ‘Open,’ but no light shone inside. As he opened the door, a familiar voice said, "Bonjour, mon ami! Another late-night visit?" It was just the pharmacist, a regular night for him. The delivery driver laughed and shook his head, realizing it was always the same old story—just another quiet night at Pharmacie de Pourtoules.