The Phunny Pharm, Round 2

There's always at least one “Blessing” a day at the Phunny Pharm. I've been there long enough now that every person who comes in is a potential bad customer, the trick is to appease them somehow. 

When that fails, laugh at them behind the counter and go on with your day. Then blog about it later ^_^

Today in the Phunny Pharm I opened the drive thru window and breathed deep the fresh smell of newly puffed cigarettes. When I had recovered from that I saw that the driver of the car was handing me a prescription. I took it, asked the usual questions about the patient, who happened to be the smoker in the passenger seat. I noticed two others in the back seat, I also noticed that the prescription was written for vicodin. (That's the really popular drug I mentioned in my last blog about the Phunny Pharm.) Now, not that I automatically assume that people who come for controlled substances are abusing, but when they come in a rusty old car smoking and swearing into their cell phones I assume some things.

Fifteen minutes later when they came back for the vicodin my suspicions were confirmed. First, the driver asked if she could buy benadryl through the window. I cringed. Buying something through the drive thru window, other than it's intended purpose, means that they will lounge their lazy hindquarters in their seats while ordering me to make multiple trips into the front of the store. I work in the pharmacy, I do not know very well where to find things in the front store. Also, I don't know what benadryl is or where we keep it in the store. I asked the pharmacist if I could do transactions through the window. To my relief she responded that I have better things to do. I informed the driver that she would have to come in to the store to get it. She informed me that her mother-in-law needed it for her dialysis. I don't know much about medical stuff, but I had never heard that you need benadryl for dialysis. When I had convinced them that I was not going to run around the store looking for a pink box of benadryl I asked them for the name of the patient to give them their prescription. I was given only the last name and went looking. When I couldn't find it by last name alone I went back and asked for the name. By now the pharmacist was helping me. When the first name I was given was not clear I went back and asked for a birthdate. The driver stopped me.

“Is that the last thing you need?”

“Yeah, we're just having a little trouble finding her in the system.”

“Well we gave it to you fifteen minutes ago and you said it would be ready.”

“Yes, but I can't find it so we're trying to look up where it is.”

“Ok fine.”

“... What was the birthdate again?”

Upon finding the right person in the computer the pharmacist tells me that they can't have it filled today because the same prescription was filled at the other pharmacy down the road. (I find it very funny when people think we don't find out.) The pharmacist goes to the window. I listen.

“Ok, we put it on hold because it was already picked up at Walgreens.”

I hear four voices protesting angrily. (Four people don't get mad all at once when one person's pain medication isn't ready, I'll give you one guess who it was really for.)

“Ok, you all need to calm down, I'm telling you that it was already purchased at Walgreens.”

“What'd you do? Take it to Walgreens?”

“No, we don't take prescriptions to other stores.”

“I wanna talk to your boss!”
“Well, I am the boss, you don't get any higher than me.”

I can no longer hear over the sound of my own stifled laughter. Pharmacist win.

About a week ago there was another odd customer. He's a regular and no one really knows what to do with him. The man must have some sort of medical condition so I suppose I should feel sorry for him except I don't think he has figured it out yet. Our conversations go like this.

“Hi, are you picking up?”

“muphuphruphup.”

“Um...”

“muphuphruphup.”

“I can't understand you.”

“muphupruphup.”

“Do you need the bathroom key?”

“Muphruph.” No facial expressions, no body language, no sign language, nothing but mumbling and grunting.

“A prescription?”

“Mhuph.”

“Can you write down your name?”

He scrawls a few letters, enough for me to guess his name, and continues grunting and pointing at me.

“Ok we have a prescription we can give you, but it's over the counter so your insurance won't pay for it. Do you want a big jar or a little jar? The little jar will cost less.” We hold up the different jars.

“Mphurph.”

“The big jar?”

“Mphurph.”

“The little jar?”

“Mphur.”

“The little jar is six dollars.”

“Mpuruph.”

“The big one is twenty.”

“Murphurphuprmhp. Hurphmuprph.” He points vaguely at the little can.

“Ok, it's going to be six dollars.”

He walks out of the store leaving us holding the cans. We look at each other, shrug, and go back to work.

I'm no longer the newbie at the Phunny Pharm, there's another new trainee. On one of her first days she is on pick up, or register, which is about all she can do without more training. A man comes to get his prescription. He has an odd last name something that sounded to me like “RonCollins.” The new tech goes to the bins and looks under Collins. When she cannot find it she asks “Mr. Collins” for his name again. He repeats his last name and asks why she can't figure it out.

“She misunderstood sir,” the pharmacist asks. “You said your name quickly and she thought you said your first and last name.”

“I know you people don't bother to learn english.”

I stare at him from across the pharmacy wondering if this man is serious. I mean, the pharmacist on duty and the other tech might be black but they both speak clear english, and I don't exactly look like I immigrated here.

“I'm pretty sure I'm speaking english to you right now sir,” the pharmacist responds.

“Don't you talk to me like that.” The customer takes a step toward the pharmacist.

“You don't need to be rude to my tech, she's just trying to do her job.”

“You don't need to be rude to me! I don't have to put up with this!”

“No you don't, you can leave the pharmacy at any time you like sir.”

I find it most amusing that whenever the customers get mad at anyone in the Phunny Pharm they do it in front of the registers, which means, in front of the cameras.

“Maybe I'll take my business elsewhere!”

“You are free to do that sir.”

He strolls off as if he has somehow won. The moral of the story kids, if you're a mean person we won't be scared, we'll just laugh at you behind the counter and watch the pharmacist put a note in your profile to warn all the other pharmacists. ^.^