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Lay Off The Scooby Snacks!

, , , | Working | July 22, 2021

I had a lady pick up [painkiller] for a dog. It was a pretty early refill and I was bored, so I went to our manager, and it turns out the dog had been filling this prescription all over town.

I just thought I’d try and broaden the search, so I just did the owner’s name and date of birth and found multiple other dog names all filling [painkiller]. I called the office and it turns out the vet this dog owner was using had just stepped down to be with her family and was not practicing. The owner used to work there but had been fired for calling in fake scripts. The office said they would take care of the issue.

The part that still makes me laugh about this whole sad situation was that the first dog’s name was Scrappy, and one of my techs chimed in, “I would have gotten away with it if it wasn’t for you meddling kids!”

Sometimes You Have To Go Off-Script

, , , , , | Healthy | July 20, 2021

I work in a pharmacy, so you can imagine that we get more than our fair share of sick, coughing people. Unfortunately, that also means that we get more than our fair share of people who insist they cannot wear a mask. While corporate has refused to allow us to use curbside service, my management HAS been very good at backing us up and insisting we can refuse service to people that don’t comply.

Customer: “Hi, I just need this script filled.”

Me: “Sorry, ma’am, can you please put on your mask?”

Customer: “No, I have a medical exemption.”

Me: “I’m afraid that I am going to have to insist.”

Customer: “I cannot wear a mask.”

Me: “Ma’am, we will refuse service to anyone who isn’t wearing a mask. Many of our customers are high-risk.”

At this, she lifts her script to press it flat against the plastic of the barrier between us.

Customer: “The sooner you give me these, the sooner I can leave and start taking them so that I can wear a mask. But I need this script first.”

I am about to keep arguing, but then I realise what the medication on the script is. It’s a strong prescription painkiller, used for nerve disease and shingles and its complications.

I then look at the woman’s face again, and  I realise the redness on her cheeks and jaw are not embarrassment or just a ruddy complexion but inflammation.

Me: “Sorry, ma’am. I’ll… get right on that.”

Could she have been clearer? Given the particular painkiller, probably not.

They Have A Membership Card To The Entitlement Club

, , , , , | Right | July 17, 2021

It is late, my husband and I are picking up some prescriptions at the only twenty-four-hour pharmacy in our area, and we decide to get some much-needed OTC meds for the household. As it’s so late, there is only one cashier. We stand the appropriate six feet back, both in masks per state ordinance. There is a gentleman ahead of us at the register who is taking an exceptionally long time because his total is “unsatisfactory”. I should note he is NOT wearing a mask and is getting uncomfortably close to the cashier.

Customer: “Okay, go through the items again and tell me every price.”

Cashier: “All right.”

The cashier begins reading the list, for what is probably about the third time.

Customer: “No! No! Your signs say those things are cheaper!”

Cashier: “Like I told you before, sir, those prices are with our store card, which I can sign you up for. It’s free.”

Customer: “Absolutely not! Go through it again and give me the correct price!”

At this point, he is leaning over the register and is basically inches from her face. Since the cigarette shelves are right behind her, she cannot step that far back. Finally, I walk forward with my store card.

Me: “Here, scan mine. I have kids at home and want to get out of here.”

Cashier: *Obviously relieved* “Thank you.”

Customer: “Hold on, I need to grab a few more things, then!”

We all groan, but whatever will hurry him up. He comes back, adds about ten more things to be scanned, and then steps back. The cashier stares at him, as do my husband and I. After a few minutes, he snaps his fingers and glares at me.

Customer: “Well?! What are you waiting for!”

Me: “Huh?”

Cashier: “Sir?”

Customer: “She scanned her card. Hurry and finish this so I can leave!”

Cashier: “Sir, it’s totalled out. Now you just have to pay. Did you need something else price- checked, or…?”

Customer: “But she scanned her card!”

Me: “And…?”

Customer: “Then scan it again or something, but hurry up!”

Me: “I’m not sure I follow.”

Customer: “Hurry and pay so I can leave; you scanned your card already once!”

I suddenly realize he thinks I offered to pay for his items.

Me: “Dude, I just scanned the discount card. I’m not paying for your stuff!”

Customer: “Well, why else would I get the rest of the stuff I needed?! Oh, my God, f*** this! F****** poor people!”

He shoved his items over the counter at the cashier and stormed out. We all just stood there in shock. Not only did he think I was offering to pay, but he actually added MORE stuff. I guess late nights always bring out the weirdest people.

You Need To Be A Customer To Get Customer Service

, , , , | Right | June 29, 2021

The night has wound down to the end of our business day half an hour after we lock the doors. The other employees and I are doing our last-minute tasks. I’m vacuuming the carpet in front of the door, and I hear the door rattle loudly and look up in surprise. There is a woman outside, gesturing at me.

I turn off the vacuum cleaner so we can talk. She sounds like she can’t believe she has to say this out loud.

Customer: “Um, hello! Hi there! Your door is locked.”

Me: “Yes, ma’am. I know. We closed at 10:00 pm.”

She gets a surprised look on her face. I give her my best apologetic look and point to our hours, which are posted on the door. She looks down as if the sign magically appeared. I can actually watch her face transition from confused to a growing rage.

Customer: “I can’t believe it! This is horrible customer service!” 

She actually flips the bird at me. My niceness is gone now that she has crossed the line.

Me: “Customer service stops at closing, lady.”

She made an inarticulate screeching noise and stormed off. My coworker and the closing manager thought my last line was hysterical, so I didn’t get in trouble.


This story is part of our Best Of June 2021 roundup!

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Anchors Aweigh… And Aweigh, And Aweigh…

, , , , , , , , | Healthy | June 26, 2021

I was a new sailor, getting ready to report to my first ship. My wife and I had driven all the way across the country to the base where my ship was home-ported, so we were totally unfamiliar with the area. We got a hotel room while we looked for apartments, but the next day I got really sick. Two of my teeth on my upper jaw hurt so much I couldn’t sleep, so we grabbed my medical and dental records — this was a long time ago, when sailors hand-carried their records between assignments — and managed to find our way to the local Navy hospital. I checked into the dental office, and they got me in very quickly because I was obviously in a lot of pain.

The dentist, a Navy Lieutenant, poked and prodded a bit, had an x-ray taken, and then told me there was nothing wrong with my teeth. She said I probably had a raging sinus infection and had one of the nurses take me to the emergency room on the ground floor.

An hour or so later, I was diagnosed with a sinus infection, given a paper prescription, and sent to the on-site pharmacy. I grabbed a number and waited, still dazed by the constant pain in my face from the infection. My wife had to tell me when they called my number, and she escorted me to the pharmacy window. The pharmacy tech rattled off a bunch of stuff about the medicines I wasn’t coherent enough to follow, but I did make out that I needed to start taking them right away.

Fine. No problem. We sat back down and I read the labels. The largest bottle said I had to take four pills right away. I staggered to the water fountain in the lobby and swallowed one of everything, plus four of the pills from the big bottle. I walked back to where my wife was sitting, and she started putting the bottles of pills in her purse, giving each bottle a quick look to see if any needed to be refrigerated. Then, she paused and said, “Oh, f***!”

She dragged me up to the prescription drop-off window and hollered for help. An older man came to see what was wrong, and my wife showed him the large bottle and my ID card. The pharmacy tech turned white as a sheet and said, “Oh, f***!”, and then called for a gurney and a doctor.

The next couple of hours were a blur of activity I don’t remember much about, ending with me admitted overnight for observation. It seems the pharmacy tech who’d handed me my pills had also grabbed a bottle intended for another patient — the large bottle. I had taken a quadruple dose of a major blood-pressure medication and my blood pressure was dangerously low by the time the ER managed to get me hooked up to an EKG.

Even in military medicine, almost killing the patients is generally contraindicated. I recovered fine, but there was a major investigation at the hospital, and the pharmacy tech who handed me the wrong pills ended up demoted or transferred someplace unpleasant — perhaps both. The pharmacy at that hospital changed their standard operating procedures to require careful verification of the name on every label and to cross-check every prescription issued with the patient’s medical record.

That’s how the US Navy nearly got me killed before I set foot aboard my first ship.