I’m a manager in a pharmacy. Sometime in 2021, half of our store floor is turned into a temporary vaccination facility. We explain this to some of our retail customers who ask why a wall of curtains is blocking their access to what used to be departments they would use. Most are fine with it — emphasis on “most”.

Customer: “You should all be ashamed of normalizing vaccines! You just don’t know what’s in them!”

Me: “Actually, we know exactly what’s in them.”

Customer: “You only know what they want you to know! They cause autism!”

Me: “That is simply not true.” *Looks around conspiratorially and leans in closer* “What if the vaccines caused cancer, though?”

Customer: *Also leaning in* “Why? What have you heard?”

Me: “Oh, nothing. Just wondering, don’t you buy cigarettes every time you come here?”

Yes, I know, it’s stupid that a pharmacy sells cigarettes, but hey! Corporate America!

Customer: “That’s different!”

Me: “You’re right! Over 150,000 people die of lung cancer in the US every year. I think maybe three or four people have died from vaccine complications in the US? After 300 million doses. So, yeah… very different.”

Customer: “You’re just a sheep who does what he’s told! Look at the real evidence!”

Me: “I’m a sheep that didn’t get sick while working in a pharmacy during a global health crisis. That’s plenty of evidence right there. So, one pack or two today?”

The customer glared at me but still bought her daily pack of cigarettes.

Related:
You Can’t Vaccinate Against Stupid, Part 3
You Can’t Vaccinate Against Stupid, Part 2
You Can’t Vaccinate Against Stupid

Customer: “You need to match my prescription to one from another store.”

Me: “What store.”

Customer: “This one.”

He proceeds to pull out a receipt from Walmart.

Me: “I can’t match that.”

Customer: “Why?”

Me: “That receipt is three years old.”

Upselling really isn’t a thing here in Sweden. Or at least, it hasn’t been. I was hit by the Upselling Frenzy From Hell a couple of days ago and still wonder what got into the pharmacist.

I had just checked out after a few rather strenuous days in the hospital (after four days of being completely zonked out at home), with my soap-washed hair in a tussle and dressed in a nightgown. I looked and felt really poorly, but I had to get my latest round of antibiotics before heading home. The last bus going directly home was leaving in less than thirty minutes.

When it was finally my turn, the pharmacist quickly got the antibiotics. I had finished my last round of antibiotics sixteen days prior. It was the same brand and same dosage — and yup, same illness, just with the flu added for some extra fun the second time around.

Then, she went off.

Pharmacist: “Do you know how to take this?”

Me: “Yes, I finished the last round two weeks ago. Same brand, same dosage.”

Pharmacist: “You have to [long winding description].”

Me: “Okay. Can I pay, please?”

Pharmacist: “Don’t you need [Product #1]?”

Me: “No. Just the antibiotics. Can I pay, please?”

Pharmacist: “But you must need [Product #2]!”

Me: “No. Just the antibiotics. Please let me pay.”

Pharmacist: “Oh, but [Product #3]—”

Me: “NO, I WANT TO GO HOME. LET ME PAY. PLEASE!”

Pharmacist: “But look at your list of prescriptions! Surely you need [Prescription #1]?”

Me: “No. Let me pay.”

Pharmacist: “[Prescription #2] — you absolutely need that one, right?”

Me: “Got it five days ago. Let me pay.”

Pharmacist: “Oh, but [Prescription #3]— ”

Me: “I NEED TO CATCH THE BUS. PLEASE LET ME PAY BEFORE I PASS OUT!”

Pharmacist: “Sheesh. What a grumpy b****.”

When I put the antibiotics in my brand-new backpack, the zipper broke. But I did manage to catch the bus with a minute to spare, and I was the only passenger, so the driver treated me like a queen.

Customer: “I need some ankle monitors. I need to keep my husband safe at home for a while.”

Me: “Uh… I don’t… think that’s something we do?”

Customer: “Yes, you do! I’ve seen you sell them!”

Me: “You’ve seen us sell ankle monitors?”

Customer: *Rolling her eyes* “Ugh! Yes! My husband sprained his ankle while playing tennis, and he has to stay off his feet for a while.”

Me: “Oh, you mean an ankle brace? Like those pressurised socks for ankle injuries?”

Customer: “Oh, are they different things?”

Me: “Very much so.”

Customer: “Well, is an ankle monitor better? Will it keep him safe at home?”

Me: “It would definitely keep him at home!”

I then explain exactly what an ankle monitor is for and how it’s the police that “provide” them, not pharmacies.

Customer: “Oh! How embarrassing. I don’t need a monitor for him, though! I’ve hidden one of those Apple Air Tags in all of his bags and jackets, so I always know what he’s up to!” 

She then “boasted” by showing me her iPhone, with a list of FOURTEEN Air Tags all labeled “Useless Husband”. I swear, I’ll never understand boomer marriage humor.

One time while I was on vacation in upstate New York, I ran out of a prescription. No problem; there was a [Pharmacy Chain] nearby. I went there, explained that I needed just one refill here, and in just a few minutes had my prescription and was on my way.

Three months later, I got a text that my prescription was ready for pickup. I headed to my local [Pharmacy Chain], and… it was ready in upstate New York. Ugh!

At least they got it right after that — except for the one time the [Pharmacy Chain] I use was out of my medication and I went to a different one for that one refill. And the same thing happened again.

Okay, maybe they never get this right.