(I work as a pharmacy technician and, as part of verifying a patient’s identity, I ask them to verify the address we have on file. A man with three rows of skulls tattooed on his forearm is picking up for someone else.)
Me: “Can you verify the address?”
Customer: “[Street number], uh, gosh, it’s the snowman from that Frozen movie!”
(The street was Olaf. I laughed and sold him the prescription.)
Unfortunately, the postcode of where I live doesn’t always show up correctly with all the auto-address fill-in databases in common use. I live on a small private road (let’s call it Minor Avenue) just off a main road (let’s call it Main Road). My address is 6 Minor Avenue, Main Road, Coventry, Postcode. Some databases have it as 6 Main Road, Coventry, which does not exist. Where there should be a building is actually an open plot of land sometimes used as a temporary car park.
When I give my details over the phone, I always double check the person filling in the details has the correct information.
A few months ago, I wasn’t very well, and could foresee me needing a lot of medicine. As such, it was necessary to buy myself a pre-payment prescription card, which I did at the pharmacy. It was them that contacted the company that issues the cards, rather than me, by using their website.
Two weeks later, and I still hadn’t received my card through the post, so I rang up the prepayment people. My card had been dispatched, and when the person I was talking to double checked the details, he saw the problem and burst out laughing.
Him: I see the problem – your card has been sent to the address 6 Coventry. That was all they put!
I drop off a prescription at the pharmacy counter.
Pharmacist: We’re pretty busy. Do you want to wait or come back in about an hour?
Me: I have some other errands to run. I’ll come back around 1:30.
Pharmacist: That should be fine.
I come back about 1:40. The woman ahead of me in line at the pick-up counter is obviously angry and snarking at the shy young pharmacist. Eventually she steams off.
Me: Hi, do you have a prescription ready for (my name)?
Pharmacist: I’m so sorry. We’ve been really busy. It will probably be another 15 minutes or so. Would you like us to deliver it to your home?
Me: Oh, no. That’s fine. I’ll just run over to (supermarket) and come back.
About 20 minutes later:
Pharmacist: We’re just getting your order together. Do you mind having a seat for a couple of minutes?
Me: No problem.
A few minutes later, she calls me up to get my prescription.
Pharmacist: Thank you so much for being so patient. I’ve already had two people yell at me today.
Me: No problem. It’s not like it was your fault.
Pharmacist: They don’t seem to care about that. Thank you so much again.
Me: Hope your day gets better.
(I’m pregnant and recently started showing, which has lead to many comments from customers. Also, the pregnancy has lead me to make lots of silly mistakes which I largely blame on pregnancy brain.)
Me: “Sorry about that. My daughter stole my brain cells and she won’t give them back.”
Customer: “I’m sure she’ll give them back eventually. I feel like I’ve just started to get back some brain power from my daughter.”
Me: “Oh? How old is she?”
Customer: “14.”
Me: “…”
(I am a customer in this story, and was in the process of picking up a few prescriptions. I grabbed a small, much-needed item as well to be wrung up.)
Me: *places item on the counter* “Is it all right if I add this to the purchase? If it’s too much trouble I can take it to the front registers.”
Pharmacist: “Nah. This is one tiny item that can fit into the prescription bag. You wouldn’t believe how much people try to pack their cart at pick-up to avoid the line. We don’t have the bags or the means to properly checkout full loads back here.”
(As if on cue, a woman with a full shopping cart and a hand-basket moves in line behind me, hitting my leg in the process.)
Customer: “Hurry up! I don’t have all day.”
Me: “Sadly, I think I do.”
