My husband and I have both been diagnosed with severe sinus infections. We go to a local walk-in clinic and the nurse practitioner prescribes us the exact same drugs — amoxicillin and Claritin — because we have similar medical histories and those drugs are generally the normal treatment for sinus infections in the United States. We go to a pharmacy at a major grocery store chain to get the prescriptions filled.

We present the prescriptions to the pharmacy tech on duty.

Pharmacy Tech: “I can’t fill these!”

Me: “Why not?”

Pharmacy Tech: “Because you were both prescribed the exact same medications! It would be unethical for me to fill them!”

Me: “We both have sinus infections, and we have similar medical issues, so the nurse practitioner who prescribed them gave us the same thing.”

The pharmacy tech gets a blank look on her face and she starts to mumble to herself. I finally decide to ask for the pharmacist. The pharmacist comes over.

Pharmacist: *To the pharmacy tech* “Why can’t you put these in to be filled? This is the normal treatment for sinus infections.”

Pharmacy Tech: “But they were both prescribed the same medications! I can’t legally give two people in the same household the same medications!”

Pharmacist: “Where did it say that in any of your training? What would happen if you had two diabetics in the same household who took insulin?”

Pharmacy Tech: “I just assumed that two people in the same household can’t have the same medications. It would be different if they were diabetic because you need insulin to live. You don’t need amoxicillin and allergy medications to live!”

Pharmacist: “These people are obviously in extreme discomfort! Put these in the system to be filled! I will discuss this with you later!”

We ended up getting our prescriptions filled. I later learned from a friend who worked at that same grocery store that the pharmacy tech had always been off mentally and that she caused MANY problems with customers due to her lack of common sense. She was eventually fired after refusing to let a government employee use their insurance plan because she said that it “wasn’t fair” that their copays were so low.

One night, I am working the night shift at our pharmacy with a floater pharmacist — one from another store that comes in when our normal pharmacist is on vacation. It is a bit of a busy night, and we get a phone call from a lady who has been calling quite often.

Tonight, she calls on the doctor’s line (the line for doctors calling new prescriptions in). The pharmacist answers and later tells me the whole conversation.

Pharmacist: “Thank you for calling [Pharmacy]. This is the pharmacist; how can I help you?”

Caller: “Are you actually the pharmacist?”

Pharmacist: “Yes, this is the pharmacist; how may I help you?”

Caller: “You’re actually the pharmacist and not one of the techs, right?”

Pharmacist: “That is correct; I am the pharmacist. How may I help you?”

Caller: “I just want to be sure that you’re actually a pharmacist.”

Everyone is always clear to state who they are at my place, so why she feels this would be a trick is beyond me.

Pharmacist: *Giving up* “I’m sorry I’m unable to help you tonight. You may want to try back in the morning.”

The pharmacist hangs up and turns to me.

Pharmacist: “I bet if you had answered, she would have asked for whatever she wanted right away.”

A few minutes later, the doctor’s line rings again with the same number appearing on the screen. The pharmacist answers and puts her on hold so she can finish what she was working on instead of repeating herself more. The line goes dead after a few seconds. Then, another few minutes later, it rings another time. I clear out the line at the drive-thru and then take the call.

Me: “Thank you for calling [Pharmacy]. This is technician [My Name]; how can I help you?”

Caller: “Ah, [My Name]! So good to hear you. You know a lot about medicine, I’m sure, so I’ll bet you could answer this for me!”

She then proceeds to tell me about some medications she is on and asks about interactions, not letting me get a word in.

Me: “I’m sorry, but that is going to be a question for the pharmacist. Hold for just a minute and she’ll be with you as soon as she can.”

I place her on hold.

Me: “You were right, [Pharmacist]; she asked me right away. Question for you on line five!”

It’s a busy morning in the pharmacy; we’ve had tons of new prescriptions coming in to fill, people are picking up their stuff that’s ready, the phones are ringing non-stop, we’re putting away our medication order, and we’ve given at least thirty vaccinations in the couple of hours since we opened.

My coworker is ringing people up at the drive-thru. There’s been a constant line all morning, and she’s selling the prescriptions as fast as she can. Then, she gets this customer.

Coworker: “Hi, how can I help you?”

Customer: “Ugh, I’ve been waiting forever to pick up my prescription.”

Coworker: “Sorry about that, it’s been really busy here today. Can I get your name and date of birth?”

The customer gives her the information.

Coworker: “Okay, it looks like that prescription just came through from the doctor, so it’s not ready yet. If you can give us about fifteen minutes, we’ll have it for you. I’ll just need you to pull around to the end of the line while—”

Customer: “What do you mean, it’s not ready yet?! I’m not moving! If you all weren’t so lazy in there, it would be ready already!”

My pharmacist hears this and comes over to the drive-thru.

Pharmacist: “Ma’am, where would you like your prescription transferred to?”

Customer: “What?”

Pharmacist: “Which pharmacy would you like your prescription transferred to?”

Customer: “I don’t want it transferred!”

Pharmacist: “Well, the technician told you that your prescription has just barely arrived from the doctor’s office. So you can either go to the end of the line while we get it ready for you, or I will transfer it to another pharmacy. But you can’t stay where you’re at now.”

Customer: “Fine!”

She went to the end of the line.

I am working the cash register at a pharmacy with a corner store attached. This elderly customer approaches the register. As it’s early morning on a Monday, the store is dead.

Me: “Find everything you’re looking for?”

He stops dead in his tracks and looks at me like a French bulldog looks at a steak.

Customer: “As a matter of fact, no. I want to get a bottle of multi-vitamins, and they’re locked up.”

Now, normally, I would leap at a chance to leave the penalty box that is the front register. However, the vitamin lockbox is the one lockbox that only the manager has a key for — the exactly one key, so that’s never a point of failure.

I put on my apologetic face.

Me: “Oh, I am sorry, sir. If you go back to the case, there is a Customer Service button. Hit that and the person with the keys will come to help.”

Instead of smiling and going to do as I suggested, he chooses to get indignant.

Customer: *Grumpily* “What? Why can’t you help me?”

I do my best to repress a heavy sigh.

Me: “Because, sir, I do not have the key for that box.”

So he grumbles the whole way, something like, “Razza-fragga, I’m a veteran. Grumble-mumble, I’m no thief.”

I ignore him and head back to the register to wait for his return.

Eventually, the sound of the service button being pressed is heard overhead. Good. All is right in the world. Right?

Right?

Well, it takes my manager three cycles of the alarm going off before he arrives at the lockbox. I can hear the old man from clear across the store.

Customer: “What took you so d*** long?”

Eventually, the old man makes his way back to my register. This time, having learned my lesson, I do not ask if he found everything. I just go through the normal questions. “Do you want a bag?” “Are you a member of our rewards program?” All those time sinks.

Once he is finished, he snatches the bag off the counter. He again looks me in the face and grumbles:

Customer: “Ya shoulda asked if I found everything.”

I’ve had just about enough of this guy, so I break out… Mr. Nice Guy.

Me: “Oh! Oh, I am so, so sorry, sir! Please excuse me!”

I start to flail my hands around as if I am partially trying to fan off my face.

Me: “I had already asked and I had helped you. I thought you had found everything. Please forgive me, sir.”

The old guy was so unprepared for such a response that he just stood there, blinked, and then slowly walked out of the store.

The power of groveling.

A customer comes up to me in the pharmacy, drops his underwear, and shows me all his intimate bits covered in some kind of rash.

Customer: “What do I need?”

Me: “A doctor and a sense of boundaries…”