CONTENT WARNING: Injury detail.

I was working in the garden department at a large hardware store. I’m helping a gentleman load some product from a pallet into his truck.

The pallet was empty, and the customer stepped on a broken part of it with a nail sticking up. He starts screaming in pain and hopping on his other leg. While hopping around, he bangs his shin on a flat blue cart. He then switches legs, holding his shin and hopping on his foot for a few hops before realizing. He swears and switches legs again.

I’m standing transfixed. I don’t know what to do to help or mitigate the situation. I’m fearing for my job and a huge lawsuit.

Suddenly, he stops jumping, stares at me, and calmly states:

Customer: “If I wasn’t so f***in’ high right now, that really would have hurt.”

He proceeds to get in his truck and drive away, leaving me dumbstruck.

A guy comes into the pharmacy with his son, maybe in his early teens.

Customer: “I’m here to fill this script. It’s for my son.”

The prescription is for Adderall. This guy is super twitchy, and son is chill as could be. I run the script, and it spits out a report that shows everywhere in the state they have filled any of this medication. I show the report to the pharmacist.

Pharmacist: “This report is a mess. I’m seeing multiple pharmacies, multiple scripts, multiple doctors, all the red flags.”

Me: “Yeah, and it also looks like an Adderall was filled a week ago, so we couldn’t even fill this one even without the red flags.”

The pharmacist agrees to go talk to the guy.

Pharmacist: “Sorry, sir, we can’t fill this script. It’s been too soon since the last one.”

Customer: “Oh, haha. My wife must have filled it without telling me. But we need some for today.”

Pharmacist: “Sorry, sir, we can’t do that.”

Customer: “My son needs them for a birthday he has to go to today, can’t you help?”

Pharmacist: “No, sir, we can’t help.”

Customer: “But can’t you—”

Next Customer In Line: “—Dude! They said no three times! You’re clearly taking your son’s pills, get help and stop using your son to get high on prescription drugs, and stop wasting my time in line doing so!”

Embarrassed, the customer leaves; as they walk out, we hear the son say:

Customer’s Son: “We’re going to a birthday?”

I hope that guy gets help.

Patient: “I don’t want to wait any longer! IN AMERICA, I WOULD HAVE BEEN SEEN ALREADY!”

Doctor: “First of all, Canada is still America. Second of all, we had a car crash victim and a heart attack to deal with, so they took priority.”

Patient: “BUT MY FOOT HURTS, AND IF I HAVE TO WAIT ANY LONGER WITHOUT PAIN MEDICATION I’M GOING TO THE ER ACROSS THE CITY!”

Doctor: “Yes, sir, this is Canada, you can do that.”

Patient: “I… what?”

Doctor: “This is a trauma facility, and there are almost always at least a couple of people who are on the literal edge of death. Yell as much as you like, you aren’t jumping ahead in front of the heart attack and the guy who was almost crushed by an SUV. And you’re probably not getting narcotics either.”

Patient: *Suddenly standing up, no apparent foot issues whatsoever.* “F*** this! Someone told me Canadian drugs are free!” *Storms out.*

Customer: “Do you guys sell serotonin?”

Me: “Wait, you can just… buy that now?”

Customer: “Yeah, it’s for sleep.”

Me: “Wait, did you mean melatonin?”

Customer: “…Yeah. Maybe.”

Me: “Well… Melatonin is on aisle twelve. If you find serotonin, you come back and let me know because that stuff is in short supply around here!”

It’s late in the evening, and most of the residents of my group home have gone to bed. As a result, things have quieted down. …Except that I hear a loud, repeated sound I can’t quantify. Is something hitting the tile floor? Someone snapping a belt over and over?

Me: “What IS that sound?!”

Coworker: “I don’t know. I can’t see anything from where I’m sitting.”

I go to investigate. I find the source of the sound in the staff office, where my boss is popping empty bubbles from pill cards we use to distribute medication to our residents. (Each dose is in its own little bubble. The cards are manufactured to hold up to thirty doses each, but not every card will be completely full, leaving many empty pockets that can essentially be “popped.”)

Boss: *Sees me and starts laughing.* “It’s better than bubble wrap!”

She offers me the card she is currently in the middle of popping.

Me: “It’s loud and distracting, is what it is! I’m trying to read!”

Boss: “It’s my dopamine trigger! I had a bad day yesterday!”

Me: “Well, your dopamine trigger is spiking my cortisol levels!”

Boss: “You work here! Your cortisol levels are already high all the time!”

Me: “THAT’S WHAT WHISKEY IS FOR!”