Friday Night Freak....

God I love working in the ghetto sometimes. The blog just writes itself on a night like tonight, all I have to do is take a few notes.......

Short little dude comes to the counter and asks if we have his medicine. I swear the only difference between him and the oompa loompa men from Willy Wonka is that the customer is white and not orange. I tell oompa that there is nothing ready and he walks away confused. This type of thing only happens about seven thousand times during the course of an average workday. Oompa returns about an hour later to check again.

Me: "There's still nothing here for you sir. What medicine did you need?"

Oompa: "Cannabis"

Me: "Excuse me?"

Oompa: "Here, this should explain everything"

Oopma then hands me a picture of his mug shot and booking info from the county jail.

Me: "I gotta be honest sir. This doesn't explain anything. Was your doctor going to phone in a prescription for you? "

Oompa: "They told me the cannabis would be here."

Me: "Who told you the cannabis would be here?"

Oompa then drifts away from the counter like a ship cut away from it's anchor. I saw him awhile later in the snack aisle. Snacking probably just isn't the same without your cannabis.

The only theory I can come up with is that a corrupt cop or fellow prisoner duped Oompa out of his stash upon his entry into the correctional system and told him as part of the ruse that it would be stored for safekeeping at my pharmacy. If that is the case I would say only that there was no need to keep me out of the loop. Just clue me in next time guys, and I'll be happy to fuck with his little Oompa brain some more when he's at the counter.