I Dream Of Escaping The Profession, But Let's Face Reality. I'm Almost 40. My Future Lies Within It.

Not many can pull off up and starting a brand new career by the time gray starts to settle in around the temples. Even if those temples are covered in thick, fabulous, non-bald hair, and not even if in less than a year I will be one of the hottest 40 year old men on the planet. No my friends, around my age, people start to get defined for what they've been, not what they will be. So it may well be time to accept that my career path is set, to stop wasting my time on cockamamie dreams of being the next Carl Bernstein, and to spend it instead concentrating on becoming the best pharmacist I can be.



Which leads me to two words: Elvis Pharmacy. Who the hell wouldn't want their prescription filled by Elvis?



You need a niche to succeed in today's marketplace, and while Elvis has been done every which way since he took his terminal poop, having him behind the pharmacy counter would be a first for both The King of Rock and Roll and the drugstore business. Not to mention the professional dignity of a pharmacist wearing a sequined jumpsuit and sunglasses is a good two or three steps up from the quickie drive throughs, the Maalox name tags, and the "Your prescription ready in 20 minutes!" barking over the store's PA offered by today's pimps of the profession. Elvis won't lie to you and say the "bioidentical" estrogen specially compounded to protect the profit margin of your independent drugstore is safer than any other estrogen. And really, who better to counsel you on that Percocet prescription?

"Now you listen to the king" I'll say while looking over the top of my rose-tinted eyewear. "You only take these if you're really hurtin.' The king didn't do that, the king took them whenever he wanted to, and look how the king turned out. "

My God this idea has "license to print money" written all over it. The Elvis demographic isn't getting any younger, and if old people buy anything, it's pills and muscle rubs. Elvis would charge extra to apply the muscle rub. Of course The Elvis Pharmacy would be in Las Vegas, and any town where you can pick up your dry cleaning at two in the morning is a natural fit for myself, who is writing this blog post at that very hour.

I could also easily gain 40 to 50 pounds and still play the role. Plus I would get to wear a cape. It would involve a lot of prescription transfers, as it would be the tourists who would mainly be begging me to sell them shit, but this could be dealt with, even become part of the Elvis Pharmacy experience. Listen in as Elvis calls your square drugstore back home.

Those of you in the profession, you have been warned.