Let's Make a Deal.....

Remember that show? Now it's been remade with Wayne Brady or Kadeem Hardison (Dwayne Wayne) or Urkel or something. I like to play the pharmacy version, myself. I'd like to stroke my ego here and say I'm the "Monty Hall" in the pharmacy version.

Pick-up Window#1: The Oxycontin guy on crutches that smells like weed/booze/cologne all at the same time.

He presents with a "subscription," usually wrinkled, and has a long story about why he's prepared to pay cash. Except when asked for I.D. and then has a longer story about why he doesn't have it. Until, that is, you tell him no 50 cents, no Coke. Then he forgot; it's been in his front pocket all along! "How forgetful of me," he says.

Drop-off Window #2: The no-speak-a-da language guy with two names sans vowels and an insurance card that just says "Preferred Gold America Standard" or something to that extent.

S/he presents with "dis piece of da paper for the drug" and barely speaks English. Now, they may or may not have Medicare, Medicaid, some from of insurance you've never seen or just think they get it free because they have a prescription. It will take no longer that "I wait heeere" to get it ready and they undoubtedly smell like some type of food made with seaweed, curry, garlic and fish. Then, upon review of the prescription, there's no date on the (insert controlled substance here) prescription.

Drive-Thru Window #3: They simultaneously have sped into and pushed the call button while still rolling down their window while lighting a smoke and taking a call on their cell.

The call button has you now in a dimension of pissed you didn't know you were capable of. Upon waiting on the customer, they tell you they are "picking up and dropping off" and then have rolled up their window. They can't get the "drop off" under the metal bar and have flung the "subscription" angrily into the drawer. Luckily, it didn't blow away (this time). You ask for an address and they have no idea what that is. Then you look at the drop off and it is written for something that doesn't exist. Let's say......"Serax 10 mg." You explain this scenario and they ask if another pharmacy will have it in stock. Hmmm. "Can't you just fill it?," they ask. You assure them you'll have to call the "prescriber" (seriously, Serax 10, c'mon dude) and verify what the fuck they were thinking/smoking. And around and around.

So, which door do you pick? Honestly, I'd have to take whatever door has the donkey. I'd much rather deal with a donkey than these three mutants. Must go drink beer now, losing power.

Next time: Pharmacywood Squares. It'll take a while - Jm J. Bullock does not easily translate to the pharmacy world.

A Happy Medium

That's all I crave, heck that's all anybody craves. The exception would be manic depressives, that is; they crave divalproex sodium. Throughout the day, my staff and I are challenged by a plethora of left field-type questions. Here are the top three products that I can't make up that were actually asked for within the last week:

1. "Melatonin PM"
2. Arthritis Gloves
3. Mint capsules

Now, without explanation, these seem to be on the harmless side. Let's pause for just a second and think: Who would request these items and what would they look like? Let's just let that simmer for a moment.

Still cooking.....

Almost......

Did you come up with a mental image?

1. "Melatonin PM" may or may not exist. I don't have it and it's not in my computer system. According to the somewhat sleep deprived and strung out fifty-something, it DOES exist and has melatonin, PINEAPPLE, and some other exotic fruit that I can't remember. I think it was papaya, mango, or guava; something to that extent. Now, I do understand buying melatonin, it's a good choice, but the fruits? Really?
2. A smoke-smelling man who just lit up in his car or other confined non-ventilated space smokily asked me where the "arthritis gloves" his aged mother had seen "on the TV" would be. I honestly had no response. I just looked aimlessly at the incontinence products (which is the aisle I happened to be in) and waited for him to smokily speak again. "Yeah, she said she saw 'em on the TV." I think he smokily covered that in the first "query," but this didn't seem to be going anywhere. They didn't magically appear next to the Depends, so I said: "aaaaaaaaahhhhh, what were they now?" He took the hint and smokily walked away.
3. Mint capsules. Capsules, but filled with mint. She "usedta get 'em," but could not provide a location. I'm assuming they are sold in the world of make believe, next to the gumdrop q-tips and the gummy worm oxycodone. Mint capsules. Someone actually asked me for mint capsules. Emphatically. I told her we had mint gum. "Ya chew it," was my advice.

The topper to the week was a very old man tappa tappa tapping on the counter. He apparently bathed in moth balls earlier in the day. Maybe this was part of his weekly ritual, I don't know. Anyhow, he wanted dental products from sometime between 1940 and 1984. Astring-o-sol is apparently made famous by Joey Eastwood, who must be long dead. Google didn't bring up anything other than a bunch of Joey Eastwoods not related to this crap at all. The second thing he wanted was Topol. Now, if anyone smoked in the 80s (like my dad) then you'll remember "Topol, the smoker's toothpaste." I had no idea this was still made. Maybe the arthritis gloves guy might find it useful. Why father time needed these specific items is beyond me. The advances in these products are stocked neatly in the dental aisle. I made no mention of it to him, I had a hunch he was somewhat set in his ways. People who smell like a cedar closet tend to be a little on the finicky side of the equation. I wouldn't want to be around when the "cabana wear" comes out. That's gotta be slightly pungent. I freaking hate moth balls. Just live and let live, man. I've been around long enough to have moth-ridden clothes, but have never had them. Let's just say my closet is probably not as well thought out as this guy's closet. I really see no need to bring moth balls into a house. Moths gotta eat too.

You see, the "happy medium" I'm looking for is an ounce of common sense. I don't know all the ins and outs of an automobile, but I don't go to a repair shop and ask if they have "muffler trim" or "radio knob glitter" or something ridiculous like that. I've learned that most things have a replacement and move on with life just a little tiny bit less satisfied. It's not necessary to hold on to dental relics - just look in the dental aisle. There is an oasis of products. There's actually a product called "Oasis," as a matter of fact. I'm sure if he doesn't use these products that the ladies will say: "wait, moth balls, minty, yet smoky toothpaste, and......mint? You usually smell like moth balls, minty, yet smoky toothpaste and myrrh! No kisses for you!"

Yeah, that's what I thought. A happy medium. Just try to be nice and ask sensible questions in a time sensitive manner. A happy medium. The highs and lows of (allegedly) fictitious products has me craving......

A happy medium.

Something in the air?

There must be, or else the Mayans were right. I haven't had as many quirky phone calls, drivers-thru, Sudafed wranglers or superfluous questions as the last couple days. Some of these include, but are not limited to:

• A MAN asking: Do you have yernary track?

Now, I was pretty much frozen at this point. I do have a urinary tract, as far as I know, but I wasn't convinced that's what was on his mind. "Do I have......" was my response. "Yernary track," was his retort. So, basically, right back to the beginning; as per usual. "Are you looking for a product or a body part?" was my question to his retort. "I'm not sure," was his answer.

I like where this exchange is headed. I'd like to have a shovel handy, just to scare away the riff-raff. I doubt corporate policy will allow this act. Shucks.

"I'm lookin' for it for my lady, y'know, fer down there," was his next utterance. "So you're looking for pain relief from a urinary tract infection?" was my question. "Well, no, um, well, fer, um, down, there, y'know, fer my lady....." "Sir, I really don't know what you're looking for and there is not a product called yernary track as far as I know," was my final answer. "Well, um, I guess, ahhh......" was his way of saying goodbye.

A hearty pat on the back to the first soul who knows what the fuck this guy wanted.

• Designer pill cases are now available as an impulse item. Even at $2.99, they are going like hotcakes. Back-scratchers (bamboo ones at that) are $0.99, nobody has bitten.

A fool and their money are easily parted. These pill cases are available in zebra, flower, elephant, other flower, fish, bug and some other ugly design I can't remember. I'm astonished we don't have them in leopard for our "cougar" population, who would most definitely keep their Lor-a-tab(s) in them. I think these things hold about 2 pills (Lor-a-tab sized, of course) and are exceedingly ugly. Now keep in mind we already give you a FREE light and child resistant container for your "pills" upon dispensing. Instead of keeping them in that silly thing, you'll instead put them in a 3 dollar piece-of-shit metal container. It is morally wrong for a sucker to keep his money. I'm going to move the back-scratchers front and center and see what shakes out. Now that is a good use of 99 cents if you ask me.

• Am I interrupting your conversation in the Drive-thru? I'm so sorry.

Yeah, not so much. We at the pharmacy have a few dos and don'ts for the DT. I'm kindly going to share them with you now so there won't be an incident:

1. DON'T push the call button. There is a loud doorbell inside signalling your arrival. You will wait an additional amount of time (varying by employee and district manager presence) if the button is pressed. Thank you.
2. DO tell us your name in a cohesive manner. I don't want backstory (ever) but particularly when there is a choo-choo line of anger behind you.
3. DON'T light up a smoke mid-transaction. I can understand smoking, really I can. I can also understand you can wait for 30 seconds so your discount menthols don't waft in and make me yak in the DT drawer. On second thought, light up. This could get interesting.
4. DO either speak loudly or shut off your radio/engine/both. I thought K-cars were from the late 80s. I thought it was publicly embarrassing to still listen to Whitesnake. I, of course, was/am wrong.
5. DON'T have a conversation/textversation while we're trying to help you. A woman today asked if I could hold on. I tried to think of a shorter word than NO, but that was the best I could do. This was in the midst of trying to obtain her worker's comp info, mind you. Where's that shovel?
6. DO bring us lots and lots of goodies. We never get anything. We're expected to shove sunshine and rainbows through that fucking drawer all day and get nothing but grief and attitude in return.
7. DON'T even expect to sit there while your script is being filled. Enough said already. Shouldn't have to be said, already. Maybe we can come out and squeegee the windshield for you? How's your oil level? Air in your tires? Drive the fuck around.

• I silently pray (hourly) for the death of the sole person responsible for putting Sudafed behind the counter. Keeping a federal registry on this is just another reason government should take some advise from regular joes like me and any Pharmacist in the world.

They're (tweakers) going to buy/steal the combo products? Really? They're (methheads) making meth with acetone and a coat hanger and vinegar and a cooler in their basement. You really think the have the technology or know-how or resources ($) to extract Sudafed out of an extended release preparation of Claritin-D? Do you George W? Oh, that's right, you were a "C" student on your Daddy's word at Yale. What'd you major in again? Not meth making, I'd bet. Now, that being said, I've never made meth either, but I know it's not going to be with Zyrtec-D. The pollen is out and the masses are flocking to get "dried up" by the wrong drug. I'm gonna put this out there: C-E-T-I-R-I-Z-N-E. In most cases, 95/100 I'd say, that's your winner. Stop getting the pseudoephedrine products unless I deem you need them.

• A lady I was counseling about her anxiety meds kept saying "that's what she said."

She was talking about her female doctors comments matching mine, of course. What'd you think I meant? Get your dirty mind out of the gutter.

• An abundance of the moon howlers lately.

The crazy eyes type. The kind of crazy that looks through you like they're dancing in "Thriller." I'm a little skittish of these types; they may want to eat you, they may want to be a friend. I'm not a fan of either option, frankly.

• It's my fault your prescriber doesn't know how to use a fucking computer or know what day it is.

You're yelling at the wrong cowboy, kimosabe. Look, when the script is DENIED in my system for "Already responded by other means" by your prescriber, who went to college for at least 6 years; then I'm assuming they know how to "respond by other means." Needless to say, I've made an ass of you and me several times in the last couple days. I'm not sure where these "other means responses" have ended up, but it ain't with me. Also, if your prescriber post-dates the prescription because of retardedness, let it be known my name is not Marty nor do I have access to a flux capacitor nor do i know what a jiagwatt is. It'll have to wait until tomorrow, Chachie.

I've aired some grievances and feel a little better. I think I'm going to buy a back scratcher now.

Everybody was flattered!

This commercial could not make less sense to me. All I know, is that I wish that I perpetually worked for CVS in the mid 80's. I think you'll see why.




Okay, if that wasn't the most senseless, piece of shit you've ever seen....

So, 1985 CVS, what you're telling me is that in 1985 an "empty gelatin capsule" DOES NOT get destroyed the second it meets stomach acid? I'm not sure if gelatin and stomach acid were different in 1985, but pharmacy sure was. If that's all I had to do to "flatter" people then life would be grand. So, flattered little fat girl, is your tummy better now? Yes, the magic of a paper-thin gelatin capsule will cure all.

Joel is truly a hero. He went to such lengths - take it with food and milk. Nope. Finally, (wait, finally? Isn't there supposed to be a few more steps in there? Not if you work for 1985 CVS.) put the icky medicine in a gelatin capsule and fool Donna Anton possibly more that the little fat girl. Her stomach was probably upset from all the fucking candy and bacon and sausage and pork shoulders and various stews she'd consumed earlier. Who's fat in 1985? Really. Look in the family album from 1985ish. Everyone is slender. What the fuck was Donna Anton doing? Someone should put her in a gelatin capsule.

I'm off topic now, I'm too angry. Until next time.


Gelatin. Really? Jesus H. Christmas. I quit.