I am a pharmacy tech at a fairly large retail chain on Long Island. While most of our customers are lovely, we have quite a few rather wealthy customers who are just… out of touch with how normal people work.

I had a person ask me over the phone to grab a whole laundry list (about forty items) of items from our front end. When I explained that I couldn’t do that but would ring him up at the pharmacy instead of the front end, since this time of night was never busy, he casually offered me $200 to do it. When I was quiet for a second, wondering if this was a prank, he upped the offer to $300!

I apologized and again told him that I couldn’t do that. (Corporate policy, apparently, says that we cannot sell front-end items out of the drive-thru, so it wasn’t just my own discomfort.) He sighed, said they would shop elsewhere, and thanked me for my time.

When he and his wife came to pick up their prescriptions, they were quite nice but insisted on trying to tip me $40 for ringing up their prescriptions. My pharmacist genuinely had to go up and tell them that we were not allowed to accept tips but we thanked them for visiting [Store], after my “thank you, but I can’t accept this” didn’t deter them!

All around, they’re very sweet people, but my goodness, it’s always a rollercoaster with them.

This happened during my second week as a pharmacy tech, and six months later, they still ask me (and all of my fellow techs) if we’re SURE we can’t accept anything.

My daughter is pregnant — very pregnant — and we are waiting in line at the pharmacy for her anti-nausea meds. A lady walks up and starts a conversation about her pregnancy and how far along she is, etc. That’s all fine and good, but then the lady starts touching and groping my daughter’s belly.

I reach over and touch this lady’s stomach and start groping and rubbing it, just as she is doing to my child. She looks at me like I just murdered her cat.

Lady: “Excuse me! What are you doing?!”

Me: “Oh, I’m sorry. I thought groping strangers in public was just a thing we were doing now. Feels creepy and weird, doesn’t it?”

Lady: “Well, I didn’t mean any harm.”

Me: “Me, neither.”

The lady starts walking away.

Me: “Come back! I want to grope you more!”

I work in a pharmacy. A woman drops off three prescriptions for her son. Among them are a nebulizer (inhaler) with Albuterol. Normally, we would dispense the “gender-appropriate” kids’ nebulizer, which is the green dragon for boys and pink cat for girls. We are all out of green dragons, and the normal-looking nebulizer is not covered under Medicaid, so I dispense the pink cat.

The mother comes and receives her son’s prescriptions. Then, she notices the pink nebulizer we are about to give her.

Mother: “Umm… is that pink?”

Cashier: “Yes.”

Mother: “Put it back. I’ll just take the medication.”

Like… okay? Just let your child go into coughing fits, I guess.

I am sure she probably already has one at home, but the fact that she denied it because it was pink is beyond mind-boggling to me. Yes, I’m sure this pink nebulizer is going to turn your son into a girl.

I have a chronic condition that requires medication that I have to refill every month. I have been using the same pharmacy for almost twenty years. It’s reliable, affordable, and conveniently located.

I change doctors, though. My new doctor is in a different health system. At my second visit, he tells me that their health system pharmacy has a program that helps people who can’t afford medication with part of the proceeds from clients. He asks if I am willing to use this new pharmacy.

I’ve had very bad experiences in the past with my healthcare due to unprofessional behavior from many people — doctors, nurses, medical assistants, dentists, and medical receptionists, to name a few — so I don’t want to just make a change without feeling comfortable with the new pharmacy. I tell the doctor that I will think about it.

I decide to call the new pharmacy to inquire about their services and schedule.

Pharmacist: “Hello, this is [Pharmacy]. How can I help you?”

Me: “Hello. I’m calling because I have a question. I’m a client from another pharmacy, and I wonder if my prescriptions in their system can be transferred to your pharmacy, or does the doctor have to write new prescriptions?”

Pharmacist: “What’s your date of birth?”

Not sure if that is necessary — maybe the systems are connected and I’m findable from theirs — I reluctantly give my date of birth.

Pharmacist: “I can’t find you in our system. What’s your name?”

Me: “I’m not in your system. I called because I’d like to know…”

And I explain again.

Pharmacist: “So, you are a customer of another pharmacy? In that case, if you want to refill your medication, you must call that pharmacy.”

Me: “I am not calling to refill my medication.”

I explain again why I called.

Pharmacist: “Hold on, please.”

I wait.

Pharmacist: “You must call the other pharmacy to refill your prescription.”

Over it already, I respond sarcastically.

Me: “Oh, so I have to call my current pharmacy if I need a refill. Thank you so much for the valuable information.” 

Pharmacist: “You’re welcome.”

I never changed pharmacies.

I hate working Halloween and Christmas. The last week of September is when we’d start setting up the transitional aisle with Halloween stuff: makeup, costumes, masks, window clings, and so on. Kids loved this time of year; they’d come in with their parents, and the parents would let them go wild in the aisle. By the end of the day, so much merchandise would just be strewn about and laying on the floor that you could barely walk through without stepping on something. The bottom shelf would have stuff tossed back in there and everything was a massive mess.

We’d have to face the store during the last thirty to forty-five minutes we were open, so anyone not working a register would be working on making sure all aisles were straightened up and products were moved to the front of the shelves. I took it upon myself to be the one that the holiday aisle. I would go through and pull out all items that were no longer hanging on their hooks or sitting on their proper shelves and just throw it all on the floor so you couldn’t walk through the aisle.

I did this for two reasons.

1) I could make sure everything was pulled out that was out of place so we could put it all back properly.

2) With so much stuff scattered across the floor, any customers that came in during that last half-hour or so avoided the aisle because so much stuff was on the floor. 

I would use the same tactics during the Christmas days, but the last year I worked there was the year that everyone wanted the Tickle Me Elmo doll, and no matter how messy the aisle was, people would still wade through the mess and dig around, hoping to find the elusive Tickle Me Elmo doll. My “make the aisle messier” tactic didn’t work; people would still destroy the aisle immediately after I straightened it out, with five minutes left before we closed.

People suck.