(An order comes to my pharmacy for a well-known antibiotic. This antibiotic is known to smell exactly like rotten eggs, so most of us just hold our breath while we count it and try not to think about it too much. We dispense it to a woman who is picking it up for her teenage son. Everything is normal and she leaves with the prescription, but about 10 minutes later she comes stomping back into the pharmacy, pretty much shoves the person that I am currently helping out of the way, and throws the bottle of medication on the counter.)
Customer: “I want to speak to your manager right now! You guys gave me rotten medication!”
Me: “Really? Let me look at the expiration date on your bottle. Normally we don’t keep anything that has one less than a year away.”
(I look at the bottle and see that the pharmacist wrote a date of over a year away, and I go over to our stock bottle and check and the numbers correspond with each other.)
Me: “Hmm. Well, ma’am, it doesn’t look like this medication is expired but I will have the phar—”
Customer: “You are just lying! I mean, come on and open that bottle! It smells totally rotten! I can’t believe that you would ever give someone bad medication! My son is very very ill!”
Me: “Oh, that’s just because the active chemical that is in this medication has a bad smell. Trust me, I wish there was something that we could do about it back here, too. Most of us hold our breath while we count it.”
Customer: “Stop ****** lying to me. You just don’t want to admit you did something wrong! I will have your job for this, b****!
(At this point the pharmacist who has been listening the whole time walks over.)
Pharmacist: “Ma’am, while I don’t like the fact that you are calling my staff names like that I will let you know two things. One is, certain chemicals have a bad smell. It’s just a fact of life. So, while I know that smell is unpleasant, it’s just one of those side effects that come with being able to take medications that will help your sick son. I assure you it’s supposed to smell that bad. If it didn’t, it wouldn’t work right. Two, since you don’t seem to want to listen to my employees and call them awful names, this will be the last time that you or any members of your family can shop or fill any type of medication here. Maybe in the future you can learn how to treat people the way you want to be treated.”
(The woman proceeded to turn bright red with embarrassment and tried to apologize, but my boss wouldn’t hear it. That was almost two years ago and he still will not allow her or her family to fill their prescriptions at his pharmacy.)
Pink Guy: “Are you kidding me!? You make me go through all that and then you expect me to fork over $20? I have insurance! It covers everything! You must not have run it through, you idiots. Go check your little computer and you’ll see. I have never had to pay anything for my meds!”
(I go to the computer and refresh his information.)
Me: “It shows here we ran it through [Insurance]. They paid [amount] toward the prescription, leaving you with a co-pay of $20. The last time you got it, on [date], they paid [amount minus $20] and therefore you had a $40 co-pay. And you’ve had a $40 co-pay the last 3 times you picked this medication up.”
Pink Guy: “This is ridiculous! Whatever.” *pulls out his checkbook* “Can I get $100 cash-back?”
Me: “No, sir, the limit is $50. And, I’m sorry, but I don’t have enough in my till.”
Pink Guy: “Well… can’t you get more?”
Me: “I could, but it’d be faster for you if you just got a bottle of water and get cash-back up at the front.”
Pink Guy: *standing up defiantly* “I’m not making two transactions. I’ll wait.”
Me: “Okay. Your total is $70, and the date is [date].”
Pink Guy: “You said it was $20 before!”
Me: “Right. $20, plus $50 cash-back is $70.”
(He proceeds to write his check.)
Pink Guy: “Can I have my cash-back?”
Me: “I need to run the check first.”
(With a great show of impatience and contempt he tears the check out and hands it to me. It’s policy to verify the check by hand before running it through the feeder. Before even turning it my direction, I see he hasn’t signed it.)
Me: “Could you please sign the check?”
(He clicks his pen and makes a very dramatic and flourish display of signing the check.)
Me: “Thank you.” *I start to validate the check, the date is wrong by a few days* “I’m going to change it to today’s date and initial it, okay?”
Pink Guy: “Fine, whatever.”
(I check everything, saving the amount for last since I know it’s cash-back and I want to verify they match properly. But… there’s a problem.
Me: “Sir, I’m afraid I’ll need you to write a new check.”
Pink Guy: “What the he-why!?”
Me: “Because. You wrote the amount for $120, but the limit for cash-back is $50, and that’s how much I asked for.”
Pink Guy: “Well here!” *takes the check from me, scribbles all over it, and writes the new amounts in as tiny as he can above the errata* “There. You need my driver’s license?”
Me: “No, sir, I need you to write a new check. This one is illegible and I can’t accept it into my till.”
Pink Guy: “Screw you! Fine, forget the cash-back. I’ll just pay with my card.”
(He pulls the card out, and swipes it. But it’s too fast, I have to hit a button first.)
Me: “Okay, your card is ready to swipe.”
Pink Guy: “I already swiped it.”
Me: “I wasn’t ready in time, sorry. I have to hit a button for it to take. It’s ready now, though.”
Pink Guy: “The machine said it was ready!”
Me: “That’s the default screen. It always says that. I know it’s irritating. I wish they’d change it.”
(He swipes his card again, and poises with his pen. I expect him to start with the card transaction, but notice he’s still standing there after a second.)
Pink Guy: “Well?”
(I look at my screen, and realize it hasn’t taken the card still. I clear it and prime it again.)
Me: “Try it again, please?”
Pink Guy: “No! You’ll charge me twice!”
Me: “It won’t charge you twice. I promise. It only charges when you approve the amount and sign.”
Pink Guy: “If it charges me twice I’ll get you fired.”
Me: “I promise. It won’t charge you twice.”
(He poises with the card and practically stares me down as if judging the worth of my soul as he slides the card through. It’s then I notice the magnet strip is in his fingers.)
Me: “May I see your card, sir?”
Pink Guy: *apparently giving up, he responds less angrily than I expected* “Take it.”
(I take the card and swipe it through the correct way, setting it on the counter. Once again he poises with the pen, waiting for the prompt, and again, I notice it’s taking him a tad longer than other people. I look at the screen just as he comments.)
Pink Guy: “It’s still not doing anything.”
(I pick up his card, and take in a breath. It’s a ditch effort, but I enter the card number manually. No dice. I hand his card back.)
Me: “I’m sorry sir, your card won’t go through. Do you have another method of payment?” (It has been rejected.)
Pink Guy: “What the h***!” *literally throws the card at me, hitting my chest, and I catch it* “That’s a new f****** card! Of course it’ll take! Your computer is stupid!”
(He leaves, and I continue the day setting any emotions aside to deal with for later. I put his credit card in with one of the scripts and make a note of it for whoever has to handle it. Later that week, the pharmacist, who had been sitting behind the counter that whole time, talks to me during a slow hour.)
Pharmacist: “Hey, [My Name], you remember Mr. [Pink Guy] from the other day?”
Me: “Yeah, what about him?”
Pharmacist: “His wife came by the next day. I did the transaction. She picked up all seven scripts. She didn’t say anything about the price. Paid with a perfect check, and got the $50 cash-back.”
Me: “So, she didn’t give you any trouble?”
Pharmacist: “No, not at all.”
Me: “Well, good. At least that whole thing happened on a slow day.”
Pharmacist: “Yeah. Anyway, here.” *takes a Barnes & Noble gift card from his smock pocket and sets it on the counter* “Consider this an apology from Mr. [Pink Guy].”
(I’m at a chain company pharmacy/mini-stores getting a bottle of water. As I pass by the pharmacy, I witness an exchange between a very burly, muscular customer and a short, skinny female clerk.)
Customer: “I need to refill my prescription.”
Clerk: “Well, I’m sorry, but according to our systems, you have no refills left. You’ll need to contact your doctor and get a new prescription.”
Customer: “What?! I want my pills. Give me my pills!”
(The exchange continues for a while, with the customer getting more and more agitated. The clerk appears to be frightened and close to tears. The commotion is drawing the attention of the people around.)
Customer: “You dumb b****, are you f***ing stupid? Give me my pills or there will be a problem.”
(At this point, I step between him and the clerk behind the counter.)
Me: “Look buddy, she already said that she’s not giving you pills and told you what to do. So you better just listen to her, leave, and stop making an a** of yourself.”
(For a moment he looks like he is going to hit me, then just stomps away swearing under his breath.)
Me: *to the clerk* “I’m sorry you had to deal with that.”
Clerk: “It’s alright. Thank you for that. Here, that water is on me, okay?”
(I am at the cashier, ringing up a long line of people. I notice when customers walk in, they suddenly skirt around the theft detectors. A lady approaches the counter.)
Lady: “There is a big spider in the entrance!”
(Note: I don’t want to leave the counter because of the enormous line.)
Me: “Okay, cool.”
Lady: “You have to kill it. You work here.”
Me: “It’s not hurting anyone.”
(The lady’s husband chimes in.)
Husband: “Kill it, she’s right!”
(Everyone in the line seems to agree with the lady and her husband.)
Me: “Okay, I’ll just move it outside.”
Husband: “No, kill it!”
Me: “No, it wont do any harm out there in the parking lot.”
(I move the spider outside.)
Lady: “I can’t take it anymore!”
Me: “Can’t take what?”
(Suddenly, the lady grabs a basket made for carrying products outside and finds the spider. She starts violently smashing the red basket on the spider.)
Lady: “Why is it not dying?!”
(It turns out the basket has little legs on the bottom, preventing it from making contact with the spider. She eventually figures this out and kills it, but not before it charges her one last time and causes her to flip out
(I am a customer in this pharmacy store late at night. As I walk up to the counter, a male customer is loudly complaining to a male cashier about ‘the gays.’ Being a lesbian, I’m gathering up the courage to say something when the following happens.)
Male Customer: “The gays keep trying to turn everyone!”
Male Cashier: “It must be rough.”
Male Customer: “How do you mean?”
Male Cashier: “I have a handful of gay friends, and no matter how much time I’ve spent with them, I’ve never wanted to have sex with other dudes. I’m just saying it must be rough to have such a tenuous hold on your sexuality that you’re always worried about being turned by the slightest contact. I feel for you.”
(It takes a moment, but the male customer realizes what the male cashier is saying.)
Male Customer: “…Hey, f*** you, buddy!”
Male Cashier: “You want to f*** me? Oh god, it’s happening now! There must be a gay in the store! Run!”
Customer: *screaming* “Go to h***!”
(The customer then runs out of the store. As I put my stuff up on the counter, the manager runs up from one of the aisles.)
Manager: “What the h*** was that?”
Cashier: “Oh, I’m probably just getting a customer complaint in the morning. Totally worth it… I’ll explain later.” *to me* “Sorry about all that. How are you tonight?”
Me: “If I was straight, I would totally be giving you my number right now.”
(About three months prior, we hired some new help since we were severely understaffed at our pharmacy. Two of the workers are doing very well. One, on the other hand, is not. Today, it’s a bit busier than normal, and unfortunately the not-so-good worker is the only one I have to back me up on the register. Note: In October we switched our rewards cards.)
Coworker: “Do you have [Rewards Card]?”
Customer: “Yes, it’s right here.” *pulls out our current rewards card*
Coworker: “Sorry, but we have a new one now that we switched to.”
Customer: “I was told this is the new one.”
Coworker: “Yeah, but we have a newer new card.”
Customer: “Well, what’s going to happen to my points?”
Coworker: “I can switch you, but I don’t know what’s going to happen.”
Customer: “Well, this is stupid! Why do you keep changing it up?!”
(By this point, I finish cashing out my own customer and speak up.)
Me: *to the customer* “Ma’am, I can assure you, the card you’re holding is our current rewards card. I have no idea why he’s lying to you.” *to my coworker* “For God’s sake, don’t do that.”
(My coworker shuts up for the rest of the transaction. After all the customers are cashed out and gone, I confront him.)
Me: “You cannot do that to the customers! What the h*** are you thinking?”
Coworker: “Man, I been doing that, and I’m gonna keep doing it! It’s what keeps me sane here!”
Me: “Thank you for calling [pharmacy]. How can I help you?”
Customer: “I need to refill a couple of prescriptions. This one I have the number for.”
(She proceeds to give me the number, and while I am running the prescription through her insurance I hear some kids playing in the background.)
Me: “Okay, so that one went through just fine. What is the next one?”
Customer: “I don’t have the number, but can you look it up for me? It’s my birth control.”
(I look in the customer’s file and sure enough it’s there. But while I am running it, the playing in the background has turned into a serious screaming and fighting match.)
Customer: *embarrassed* “And this is why I am refilling the birth control. Can’t you tell?”
(It’s currently flu season, and we are offering flu shots.)
Me: “Alright, sir. We got you all set. Have you gotten your flu shot yet?”
Customer: “Ah, no. I don’t get a flu shot. I don’t get the flu, sweetie.”
Me: “Wow, you must be lucky.”
Customer: “You want to know my secret, dear?”
Me: “What’s your secret, sir?”
Customer: *leans in close* “You see now, chickens, cows, pigs: they get the flu. So, if you don’t eat them, you don’t get the flu! You remember that now!”
(I’ve just come from the emergency department of the hospital, with instructions to fill two prescriptions immediately. I’m obviously sick and having difficulty breathing. It’s about 9:30 PM, which is 30 minutes before closing.)
Me: “I have a severe corn allergy, so can you please double-check the ingredients on those before filling them?”
Pharmacist: “No.”
Me: “…Pardon? ”
Pharmacist: “Almost all medications are made with corn starch, you know. I don’t think I can fill them.”
Me: “My understanding is that very few prescriptions meds have corn in the them. Can you check them please?”
Pharmacist: “No. I don’t have the ingredients.”
Me: “Aren’t they on the bottle?”
Pharmacist: “No.”
Me: “Can you look them up somewhere? Online or in a compendium?”
Pharmacist: “No.”
Me: “I really need these medications immediately.”
Pharmacist: *sighs* I guess I could leave them for someone tomorrow, and they could call the company.”
Me: “I need them tonight. I’m not sure what to do.”
Pharmacist: “I’m sure you’ll be fine. There’s only a little bit of corn starch in a pill.”
My Husband: “NO! Didn’t you hear her? She’s ALLERGIC!”
Pharmacist: “Well, there’s nothing I can do tonight. I guess I can keep these until tomorrow and someone else will deal with it.” *wanders off*
(I called another pharmacy in the same chain, and they were able to check the ingredients immediately. We retrieved my prescriptions from the unhelpful pharmacist, and my husband made a complaint the next day. It turned out he was a temp and was fired
(I am a pharmacist working at 24-hour pharmacy. This takes place on a late Sunday evening.)
Female Caller: “Hello, um… I… um… you know the morning after pill?”
Me: “Yes, certainly. What would you like to know about it?”
Female Caller: “Is there an anti-morning after pill?”
Me: “Sorry? An anti-morning after pill?”
Female Caller: “Yes. You see, this guy, he came around today, and he brought some flowers and everything, so now I’m kind of regretting taking that pill. So is there an anti-morning after pill I could take?”
Me: “No, I’m sorry, there isn’t such a thing.”
Female Caller: “Oh, that is a shame. Do you think they will make one?”
Me: “No, I’m sorry, but I really don’t think they will.”
Female Caller: “Really? Oh, that is a bummer.” *hangs up
(A customer pays with a fifty dollar bill. Spotting it, the pharmacist on duty grabs his wallet and asks the cashier to give him the fifty for two twenties and a ten.)
Coworker: “I can’t do that!”
Me: “Why not? He’s giving you $50 for $50.”
Coworker: “But my till will be wrong!”
Me: “How? You take out the fifty, and put in two twenties and the ten. The totals are still the same.”
Coworker: “But I won’t have the fifty, and the register will KNOW!”
(My coworker at the pharmacy has been working with a customer who seems to be having the worst day. Unfortunately, my coworker is the victim of the customer’s mood, and he has reduced the poor girl to tears. Behind this customer is a young father in his mid-20s and his three sons, aged probably six, two, and less than a year old. The young father is clearly upset with the behavior of the customer in front of him, but, probably for the sake of his children, is keeping his mouth shut. Out of nowhere, his six-year-old son speaks up.)
Six-year-old Son: “‘Scuse me, sir? I think you’ll probably get what you need easier in life if you’re nice to people. You’re making the pretty lady sad and she didn’t do anything wrong.”
Customer: *clearly shocked* “Didn’t your father here teach you to mind your own business, son?!”
(The young father is actually grinning proudly, and reaches over to high-five his son.)
Father: “Actually, I taught him not to raise his voice at good, honest people.”
Customer: *clearly embarrassed, pays and leaves quickly*
Six-year-old Son: *to my coworker* “Can I give you a hug? If anyone gives you trouble, call me!”
(My coworker was very impressed by the brave little boy’s actions, while his father proudly teared up. I doubt the family will ever have to pay at our pharmacy again, and my coworker has a new best friend!)
Me: “So, your total is going to be of 30 thousand colones (60 USD). Here you go, and have a nice day.”
Customer: “Oh, you’re so nice. Thank you, too. I was wondering if you could do something else for me?”
Me: “Sure, what is it?”
Customer: “I was told at my church that they needed more members, and I was asked to bring a few. Would you mind to come?”
Me: “Well, I apologize, but I wouldn’t like to.”
Customer: *gets defensive* “Why? Don’t tell me you think we’re all cultists that don’t care about God!”
Me: “I’m sure you’re not, but I don’t want to go.”
Customer: “Why the h*** not, then? I already told you we’re nice people, so why don’t you go?!”
Me: “Ma’am, if I offended you I apologize, however I don’t want to go. It’s not because you’re nice people or not; it’s because I’m an atheist.”
Customer: “So, you don’t believe in God, is that it? Well, f*** you! You’re going to Hell! What are you going to tell me next, that you’re a f***ing queer?”
Me: “In fact, I am a homosexual, but—”
Customer: “That’s all I needed to know! Being gay is a sin!”
Me: “Ma’am, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”
Customer: “F*** no! You’re kicking me out because I’m a Christian! That’s illegal, and it’s bulls***!”
(At this point, a man behind her speaks up. Note that he is a police officer in full uniform.)
Officer: “No, he’s kicking you because you already paid and you’re disturbing the peace. So, I’m going to give you my recommendation: Leave now, or I’ll arrest you.”
Customer: *suddenly pales and leaves without saying a word*
Me: “Thank you very much, Officer. Now, how may I help you?”
Officer: “Actually I didn’t need anything. I was just patrolling when I heard the conflict. However, now that you mention it…” *he blushes a little* “…I need to ask, would you go out in a date with me?”
Me: “…Of course!”
(The officer and I have now dating for nearly half a year.)
(I am watching my girlfriend’s two-year-old sister near the counter while she does her shopping. Her sister is learning to talk in Spanish, so I’m quizzing her with colors. While we’re playing, a seven-year-old girl approaches us and asks to play because she takes Spanish at school. Everything is fine until the girl’s mother comes.)
Mother: “Leona, what are you doing? You know not to bother people.”
Me: “Oh, she’s not, ma’am. She just asked to play with me and my girlfriend’s sister.”
Mother: “Girlfriend?” *thinks for a few moments* “Oh, a close friend! Sorry, I was thinking you meant a girl you were dating.”
Me: “I did. I am dating a girl. This little girl is her sister and your daughter was just playing with us. She wasn’t bothering us.”
Mother: “What?! Leona, you were playing with a homo?!? Come over here, right now!”
(In tears, the girl slowly approaches her mother, who yells at her about how she knows better than to interact with “h***-bound sinners” like me. She then chides me for “sinning” around such a small child, referring to my girlfriend’s sister. While I’m speechless, a man comes up, who I assume is the girl’s father.)
Father: *to the mother* “I got the rest of the stuff. What are you yelling about?”
Mother: *to her daughter* “Tell Daddy what you did!”
(In hysterics, the girl tells her father what happened, ending her telling by clinging to his leg and apologizing over and over. I’m feeling dreadful and very guilty and am near tears myself. But to my surprise, this happens.)
Father: *to the mother* “Are you serious?! What is wrong with you?! I don’t even know why I came out with you! Just go wait in the car! Sheesh!”
(The mother, now apparently embarrassed, exits the store. The father calms his daughter down and apologizes to her and me before leaving. Right after they leave, my girlfriend comes up, having seen the whole thing.)
My Girlfriend: “I actually know that family. The father moved in next door to me two weeks ago. That girl’s parents are divorced and her parents have joint custody of her, but today is her birthday and she wanted to be with both of them together. They said yes to make her happy, but I don’t think that’ll happen again.”
(A few weeks later, my girlfriend tells me the father got full custody of his daughter. Now, she and my girlfriend’s sister play together on a daily basis, and I occasionally help her with her Spanish homework.)
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