Signs of the Apocalypse

Have you ever gotten that feeling you were about to have a bad day? There's no individual event that triggers this feeling, but your spidisenses indeed tingle? I think we all have. I had a day of actual irony and near sublimation and disbelief. There's not an abundance of professions that can boast a trilogy such as this.



Near sublimation...where do I begin. Well, let's start with the definition of sublimation. As I remember it, sublimation is the change of a gas to a solid while skipping the liquid phase. My near sublimation was not exactly that. Okay, it wasn't even close, but it's the only analogy that came to mind at the time. A stroke suffered Hungarian or Austrian man brought me his bottle of Digoxin that was filled when I was on vacation. Normal enough until he was garbling some words to my technician. I was on the phone, but it sounded like:



"ARRRR THUGH PROBLUHHHH RRRR!!!!!!!"



He repeated the above to me when I was off the phone. I opened his bottle of Digoxin and it was a vial of dust. I shit you not, it was dust. It looked like flour or baking soda or maybe a clever mixture of the two. At any rate, he wanted the "INSURAHHHS" to cover it again. After much "debate" he settled on saying he'd just take the powder. I think. To be sure, I told him that would not be a good idea. I think he said "why" but it sounded like WHNNNNN????!!!? I told him it may kill him to randomly ingest digoxin powder. Now, I have a few questions.



How the hell did Digoxin disintegrate in two weeks?

How the hell did he not notice this transpiring?

Why would you think anybody owes you a new refill if you let this occur?

Why bring me into this?

Can you take the stroke out of your mouth and convey a thought coherently?

Why did you drop "F" bombs on me in the drive-thru months earlier?

Is it a full moon?

Are there any hospitals hiring?

How many licks does it take to get to the center of a Tootsie Roll Pop?



I eventually sold him some for cash, reluctantly. My theory is he dropped them or did something with the original fill, filled up the bottle with a placebo powder and then expected me to fix his transgressions. Well, Strokey Mcstrokerson, it takes a little more than that pull the wool.



Just to clarify: I don't actually have a problem with stroke sufferers. This guy just has a marble mouth and a big ass scar and an accent. A stroke is the best way to describe his vocal ability.



Ironies...bitter irony. A lady who is a true pain in the ass claimed her Proctofoam was "leaking." She first calls on the phone. She complains about everything and whines how her life is so hard. She's the 50 year old virgin (going out on a limb) who still lives with mom and dad. I have no idea what she wanted on the phone other than to complain. When I tried to rectify (rectify - get it) her situation, she goes off the handle and says:



"I don't know why I always have a problem. What the hell kind of pharmacist are you, anyway?"



My retort:



"I'm the kind of pharmacist that hangs up the phone now, good bye and have a nice day."



Hard to believe she came in. Armed with her used anal medication, a belligerent attitude and a fourth grade comprehension, she started in on me. As it turns out, my pain in the ass with a pain in the ass was too stupid to clean the foam out of the applicator tip. Warm water fixed her problem and HOT water and soap fixed my hands. I guess she's the better person......



A creepy customer always gives us candy. He's nice, but the candy is always warm and looks like it's undergone some type of tampering. Well, my timing was impeccable for once. I'd just retrieved some sale candy after helping a customer find it, because that's my job, right? My trusty tech had just rung me out and the candyman came to the counter. I said:



"Today, the tables are turned, my friend!"



I promptly opened my mini peppermint patties and gave him a handful. He looked confused and a little shocked. Turns out he gave it back to my other tech, citing he didn't feel comfortable taking my candy. So, it's okay to give creepy, softened, yet warm taffy but my brand new patties are no good?



It's all good, though. We've started a 60 dram vial and have begun collecting his candy. My donation of patties were deposited. I hope to anonymously mail the whole lot to him once our collection is complete. I'll be eating the patties, though; I bought those.



As for the disbelief: My company has cut our tech hours by nearly a full timer. If I'm not dead, I'm sure I'll have lots to write about.