Weirdos at the Window (originally posted 5/28/09)

Prepare yourselves for a long post, and try not to urinate on yourself from the over-stimulating excitement. I think this will be the best one yet!

Job Description:

I have come to the realization that my position in the pharmacy exists for only three reasons. Now, of course, I will list those reasons for comic effect and to inform you, my loyal readers of how often I think about going on a 3-month lunch break (picture me running with my arms flailing about and screaming nonsensical words like those dirty, dirty homeless people on every corner of Katy begging for money and dreaming about the next time they can get their filthy hands on a cat to beat with a stolen wire hanger...).

Reason 1: To put up with our most- likely mentally impaired District Loss Prevention Manager (with her fake name and fake gender), our ridiculous PCI program (here's a good idea - let's print lists of people to annoy, and make sure we time the phone call), and our "Doctors" (armed with prayer and a license to kill).

Reason 2: To hand out Soma, Vicodin, Darvocet, Celebrex, and various other pain meds to addicts. Hand out Ambien and Lunesta to people whining about not getting to sleep. To hand out Lexapro, Prozac, Zoloft, and Paxil for the crybabies who are so very sad...boo-freaking-hoo. To hand out Vyvanse, Adderall, Ritalin, and Strattera to people's spaz kids (how about telling your damn kids to behave or get a hand to the freaking face).

Reason 3: To stand their while irate "patients" proceed to ear-rape me with some prolonged Dr. Coxian-rant about blah, blah, blah, I'm not listening and daydreaming about using a Taser on your fat face!

Anywho,

Flare-up at the drive-through:

A certain person pulls up to the window with their certain same-sex "special friend". Since I have become the apparent heir to the pharmacy piss-on position who must get practically every pick-up (you all know who I am passively aggressively talking to!), I get the great honor of benefiting from being present to record one of the most God-awful, vulgarity-infused rants of all time. The guy (and HIS guy) wants to pick up an Rx of a certain opiate pain-killer that rhymes with morphine sulfate (an exact rhyme). Only the Pharmacy Manager can order this classification of drugs, and our supplier was unable to deliver it - in short, we do not have it. The following quote is as best as I can remember:

"You know, this is f#cking bullsh!t. I had her order that sh!t a f#cking month ago! I need it every month! I told her to order a 6-month supply. I know it's not your fault; you've always been very helpful. You need to tell (name excluded) to get off her @ss, and order the sh!t I tell her to order! You need to call every CVS, HEB, and Walgreens and find someone who has it! I better have this done in two hours! I got shorted 7 days of this sh!t last month. Don't make me call Roger (name not excluded) and the corporate office. You have one f#cking hour! Tell (name excluded) that she needs to stop sitting on her @ss! I shouldn't have to go to three or four pharmacies! I've spent $27,000 at this pharmacy..."

I sent him to Walgreens. Then, I searched for some aloe vera with lidocaine to soothe by sunburns on my arms and face from his epic flare-up. Every time this guy comes up to the pharmacy he has to complain about something (I've paid $4,000 - why is there a copay?). I see him and I automatically think about the Human Torch from the Fantastic Four. FLAME ON! I pictured the guy spontaneously combusting and lighting the whole van on fire. That would be awesome! Nothing against his chosen lifestyle, it just adds an entirely new facet of hilariousness to every episode. By the way, it would take me about a year and a half to earn $27,000.

Antifungal fiasco:

A rather large lady hands me a script at my FAVORITE PLACE IN THE WORLD (the drive-through window. It's for an antifungal cream. Super! I get her DOB and ask her when she would like to pick it up (even though it's going to be an hour wait anyway). She asks how long it would take. An hour. She makes some sort of under-the-breath remark about how incredibly long an hour is (by the looks of her - about how long she can nurse a plate of an entire family of chickens - most likely still alive and squawking for dear life). Anyway, I tell her I will see her in an hour. Woo-hoo...

By the time she comes back (ten minutes or 1.83 poor, poor chickens later), I was typing an Rx for some random addict who is drooling and waiting for their hydrocododones - I'll stop there on that tangent. A certain colleague from a country that rhymes with Egypt is searching for a hardcopy of a script whilst talking on the phone to someone. Lo and behold - it's Little Miss Yeasty! He inquires about something, but I don't know what he's talking about. He says she's at the window and on the phone. I hang up the phone. I go over to the window, and ask her what she needs. She wants to know if we will price-patch Walmart. NO!

"How much is it going to be?"
"Well, I don't know, you have insurance don't you?"
"Yeah"
"I guess it will be whatever you normally pay for a generic."
"How much is that?"
CHRIST! I look at her profile. "It should be $10."
"Well, fine! Is anyone working on it? Is it ready?!"
"Well, since it's only been ten minutes (no mention of chickens to her face), it has not been completed yet. It will be about another 40 minutes. I'm sorry about the wait time."
"I don't understand why it takes so long. It comes in a box!"
I'LL PUT YOU IN A BOX! "It's not about how easy it is to process, it is the fact that there are at least 50 people in front of you."
"Now I remember why I usually go to Walmart!" She says this before racing off. I decide it is lunch time (I feel like chicken for some reason).

Now someone definitely has a note in their profile that reads "BIZNATCH!!!!" every time we look at her file. The best way to take advantage of Walmart's $4 generic plan is to ACTUALLY GO TO WALMART! I wanted to inform this chicken-masticating, whale of a woman that they invented a substance in Babylon about 5,000 years ago that consists mainly of lye, fat, and ash that will protect one from the horrible fate of the yeast infection - it's called SOAP! BUY SOME - USE IT! This would have stopped this bizarre chain of events from playing out in front of me.

Until next time...