Mayor Of Candyland Shouldn’t Mix Up His Candies

(I work in a pharmacy. I have a regular customer who is rather eccentric, and usually wears the same clothing: a raccoon fur cap — complete with tail — and a denim jacket covered in buttons and patches depicting his niche interests. He also usually rides a store-provided mobility scooter. This day, he comes in wearing a pinstripe suit, a faux velvet top hat, and a plastic pendant on a red ribbon of the sort you might find in a child’s Dracula Halloween costume. He is also walking with a cane, not riding the scooter. It’s the end of a long day, and his outfit is so different from usual that I don’t recognize him at first.)

Me: “Hello, sir. May I have your name?”

Regular: *stares at me for a second* “[Regular].”

Me: “Oh! Mr. [Regular]! Sorry, I didn’t recognize you at first. You’re wearing a different hat!”

(I pull up his profile on the computer while exchanging pleasantries.)

Me: “I’m afraid you don’t have any prescriptions ready. Was there one you were expecting?”

Regular: “I just thought I’d stop by and see if any of my automatic refills were ready.”

Me: “Well, let me see…”

(I look at the relevant page of his profile and see that all of his maintenance medications are indeed set to auto-fill, but it’s still a few weeks before they’re due to be filled again.)

Me: “Looks like you should be good for a while. You should get a call when your prescriptions are filled. Do we have your correct phone number on file?” *repeats number*

Regular: “Yep, that’s the one.”

Me: “All right, then you’ll get a call letting you know when your prescriptions are ready. Thanks for stopping by, Mr. [Regular]. It was good to see you!”

(The regular walks away, making quite the picture with his top hat and suit. The next customer in line comes up to my register and stares after the regular for a moment.)

Customer: “Is he the mayor of Candyland?!”