The Fact I'm So Not Surprised Kinda Bugs Me A Little.

From The Orlando Sentinel, slogan "covering all the news we can get for free from the surveillance cameras of others"

Sanford police are looking for a man who urinated on more than 100 unopened cough-drop packages at Walgreens last week. 

The man went into the store at 2501 S. French Ave. at about 10:30 p.m. Thursday and walked to the cough-drop aisle. 

Police say the unknown man looked around, unzipped his pants and urinated on 110 packages of cough drops.

Here comes the least surprising part of the whole story:

Afterward he walked to the pharmacy and tried to fill a prescription, but didn't have the correct paperwork.

I bet Walgreen's was really mad when they had to mark those cough drops down to half price.

 

Thanks to the alert reader who tipped me to the story.

A Big, Big Highlight From A Lifetime Of Pill Counting Action.

I saw her walk down the aisle and took in the world of difference. She was radiant and glowing and with it and well. She's been a regular customer for years, and it wasn't always that way. I've seen her haggard and tired and world-weary. Once when it was obvious something was wrong I simply asked her how things were going and she burst into tears, anxious for someone to talk to. I call them "monkeywrench moments," moments when you know a person needs a good chunk of your time and you give it to them, knowing full well it's gonna throw a monkeywrench into the rest of your day. She got all the time she needed and I got a counter full of unfilled prescriptions and three phone calls on hold in return.

I've seen her battle the hold hydrocodone can put on a person and I've seen her forced to deal with mental health demons of the type I wouldn't wish on any person on this planet. Demons  I've seen destroy people close to me, so I knew exactly how tough she was, even if she didn't know it herself. To her it was just getting through one more day. A couple months ago we had a talk about the risk of weight gain versus the possible benefit of a new med. Today as she picked up a refill it was obvious the benefits were winning. I made a joke about taking all the credit.

"You really did help me." she said with a look of earnest seriousness in her eyes. "You always answered my questions and never made me feel judged. Seriously, thank you."

Those last two words were worth more than the entirety of dollars that will show up in my paycheck this year my friends. Those last two words are the profession of pharmacy. And in this world of drive through prescriptions guaranteed in 15 minutes or less, of $1.50 dispensing fees and coupons for dog food given out with every flu shot, every once in awhile, like a weed that manages to poke through a crack in an asphalt covered parking lot, you'll still have a chance to actually practice pharmacy.

Take it. Grab that chance the way a starving bear grabs a piece of raw meat. It will most likely annoy your corporate masters, but I promise you it will be worth it.

Before she left she hugged me. The only time I've ever let a customer hug me. I figured we'd both earned it.  

You May Have The Wrong Idea About Rite Aid's 15 Minute Prescription Guarantee.

CAMP HILL, PA- In a fictional news conference held today to counter real criticism of the company's new 15 minute prescription guarantee, John Standley, President and CEO of struggling drugstore operator Rite Aid gave a surprising explanation for the new initiative. Taking the podium half an hour late "Due to unforeseen circumstances" Standley told reporters "When organizations such as the Institute for Safe Medication Practices say things such as 'the message from pharmacy chains is clear, it's all about speed.' they miss the larger point of our plan. While there is certainly a customer service component involved, the main idea here is customer assurance. Namely, assurance that Rite Aid will stay in business long enough to successfully complete the filling of your prescription."

"Let's face it." Standley didn't add. "This place could go under any minute now. And having us close up shop while waiting for medication could range anywhere from simply inconvenient, to, in the case of a narcotic dependent customer in need of a fix, absolutely harrowing. Well that won't happen at Rite Aid. Let me give my word to everyone out there that we will close the in window at each of our stores at least a quarter of an hour before any Chapter 7 bankruptcy filing, giving us time to take care of the needs of each and every person in our waiting room before we join the ash heap of business history"

"I can say this because for me, it's personal. I understand the anxiety a customer goes through in that period between dropping off a prescription and completing the register transaction. Will someone from the sheriff's office come in and start seizing assets in order to satisfy a creditor? Could a bank possibly swoop in and conduct a foreclosure? Will they have to sell off inventory in order to make the next junk bond payment? These are all very good questions. Ones of a type I sometimes ask myself while checking 5 or 6 times a night to make sure my paycheck was credited to my bank account."

"My 4.5 million dollar paycheck" He didn't say as he went on. "I got paid four and a half million dollars to lose over half a billion last year. Isn't that something?" Standley then didn't wistfully stare off into space before being interrupted by a reporter asking about the wisdom of repeating the Domino's Pizza 30 minute delivery guarantee fiasco.

"Domino's mistake was that they never put in writing that they in no way intended for their employees to shortchange safety." Standley never said. "We have made it clear in official corporate communications that we expect our pharmacists not to sacrifice accuracy in order to meet our time requirement, meaning that when one of them does and the lawsuit comes, our butts will be covered."

"Besides, we don't have any money anyway. We went over that, remember? You can't get blood out of a turnip"

When reached for comment, a spokesman for CVS laughed hysterically for five minutes.

Friends Don't Let Friends Vote Drunk.

I Was Trained To Hate The Man I Most Admire.

Mine wasn't a peaceful childhood, and it's not important to get into all the details, but I never saw anything like the look on Dad's face that night. Rage. Absolute teetotal rage. I didn't understand it, I was just relieved it was directed towards the man on the TV and not at me for a change. A little boy most always follows his father's lead in such things, and it behooved me, self-preservation wise, to also act enraged by the man on the TV's very existence. So I gave the perception of pleasure that night when Leon Spinks took the heavyweight boxing title from the man who so offended Dad, Muhammad Ali. It bought me a night of peace, but it didn't feel right. I couldn't get that man's picture out of my head. Couldn't stop thinking about how he could have provoked the anger of someone I knew to be very angry in a way I had never seen. I had to know. The next day I did what comes naturally to the nerdy, I checked out a book from the school library and started to learn.

It started with the basics. The man I saw defeated that night had been arguably the greatest boxer of all time. But there is more to Muhammad Ali than just what happened in the ring. He rose up from the streets of Louisville to win an Olympic championship on the other side of the world, then came home with a gold medal around his neck that wasn't good enough to get him served at a whites-only restaurant in his hometown. There have been two brief moments in my life when I've had a glimpse of what it's like to be a minority in White America, once when people wouldn't stop staring when I was out with a Filipina, and another time at the store when I was accused of being Jewish like it was some sort of horrible crime. Both times pissed me off like you wouldn't believe. So while I'll never understand what it's like to put up with that kind of crap 24/7, I do understand why that gold medal was thrown into the Ohio River.Why Muhammad didn't take it anymore. He didn't have to. He was young and strong and didn't have to cower to the power in order to survive.

He didn't have to accept the religion of his taunters. He found his own.

He didn't have to become a cog in the machine of the American Empire, and did not accept being inducted into their armed forces. "I ain't got no quarrel with the Vietcong. No Vietcong ever called me Nigger." he said, capturing the entire decade of the 60's in fourteen words.

Not that it was easy. His stand ensured that he would have to endure all that the power could throw at him. What would have been his best years in the ring were taken away when he was stripped of his boxing license. He was hated, despised, loathed and held to be the most contemptuous figure on the planet by all the redneck masses brainwashed into thinking they had a stake in the power structure of the status quo. People like my father, who cheered every time Muhammad Ali took a blow.

Except Muhammad was strong and the blows couldn't break him. "What's my name!!" he taunted an opponent who insisted on calling him Cassius Clay. "What's my name!!" he shouted to the man he refused to knock out in order to continue the punishment for a full fifteen rounds.

His was name was Muhammad Ali, and when he was allowed to finally resume earning a living, he found George Foreman in his path. Foreman was younger, bigger, and had absolutely destroyed opponents the now over the hill Ali had barely beaten. Finally, the redneck establishment would get their wish. Muhammad Ali would at last be beaten into submission. Everyone knew he couldn't best Foreman in a physical match.

Including Ali, who outsmarted Foreman and had him lying on the canvas after eight rounds.

Best.

Fight.

Ever.

The 60's were a fading memory by then, and Ali's history was soon to be the subject of revision. When it became conventional wisdom that Vietnam had been a mistake and that the overt racism of that era was a blot on the history of this country, Ali went from reviled to popular to....by the time it was time to light the torch to start the 1996 Atlanta Olympics, revered.

And he forgave us. Muhammad Ali stood up for what was right and fought and held strong against all the force society could throw against him, and when that society finally realized, but never really admitted, that he had been right all along, he forgave us. A very Christian like move. There are many Christians who could learn a thing or two from Muhammad Ali.

That's why I keep a picture of him by the desk where I do my writing. When I feel spent and the weight of the world is ready to wear me out, sometimes I look at that picture and hope one day I can have half the character and strength and wisdom of Muhammad Ali.

Who went on later that year to regain his title from Leon Spinks. Much to the frustration of my father.

Highlights From Friday's Pill Counting Action.

I rolled out of bed already missing my dear friend Mr. Scotch, the empty glass on the nightstand being the only evidence of the comfort he had given me the night before. I've always thought of scotch as my guy friend and the elegant martini as a woman. I don't know why. Perhaps because martinis are far more likely to leave me with a headache. The apartment was dark, with a faint smell of secondhand smoke and the headphones in the other room still sending the sounds of  The Dead Kennedys into the air. It was comfortable, just the way I like it when I've barricaded myself in from the rest of the world. I dreaded what I was to do next.

I opened the blinds and saw a rainbow, which as my Judeo-Christian friends know is God's promise not to drown us all again. I wondered why he chose today to rub it in.

I walked through the front doors of work and saw the store's manager standing by the cash register, all alone. Cashier call-outs had left him the only employee in the place. He used to be a District Manager for another chain, and  as I watched him standing there so sad and lonely I marveled at how the mighty had fallen. He was ringing out a 12-pack of beer for a man who said last night's rain meant he wouldn't have to go to his job on the road crew today. He was planning on staying home to drink.

Why did I spend all those years in college again?

So I could give expert advice on people's perspective purchases. Like the lady with the bucket. She wanted my opinion on a goddamn bucket. So I gave it to her....the main advantage is that you can use one to carry water around without having to keep your hands constantly cupped. I shared an insider tip as well; make sure there are no holes in it. Being condescending without actually sounding condescending is just one of the skills a good college education can provide you.

Half an hour into the day the former District Manager turned lonely cashier called to ask if maybe I could let Supertech come to the front for a few minutes so he could go to the bathroom. Only those of you who have experienced the universal idiocy that is every District Manager, in every chain, everywhere, can fully appreciate how much joy I took in having Supertech take the next three phone calls, then mildly suggesting that maybe, when she got some time, she could slowly make her way to the front, perhaps straightening a shelf or two on her way up there.

About 10 o'clock Express Scripts' claim processing computer went down for about an hour. About 4 o'clock, when the problem had been fixed for about 5 hours, we got a message from corporate saying Express Scripts might be having problems. It came in right as I was reviewing a warning that Suboxone, a medicine used to ease the symptoms of narcotic withdrawal, should be used with caution in patients who are narcotic dependent. I miss the days when limits on communication technology meant we actually had to have something to say before communicating.

"I'm at Atlantic and Park Avenue." The man on the phone said. And since there isn't a street by either name in my town, I could only assume I was talking to the little man from Monopoly. I'm happy to report he sounds well for as old as he must be.

I asked the next customer how he was, and he replied "Old and crappy."I instantly had a new favorite customer. I answered the phone and the lady asked me how to spell "syndrome." In your face Firefox spell checker. Some people still appreciate the kind of personalized, hand crafted, spell checking that only I can provide.

The climax of the day though, was every retail workers nightmare. A lost child. It starts with the first request, unique in the accent that is placed on the last syllable. john-NIE? In any language it is understood that this is a mother trying to re-establish contact with her offspring. The woman had been waiting in line patiently behind her stroller, and now that it was time to pick up her prescription Johnny had dropped off her radar screen.

"Johnny? Where are you?" Silence fell over the pharmacy as everyone within earshot discreetly started scanning the aisles.

"JOHNNY......JOHHHNNNNYYYYYYY????"

It was a shade short of panic now. Johnny wouldn't get in trouble if he was somewhere he wasn't supposed to be. Mommy just wanted to find him. Now.

"JOOOOHHHNNNNNNNNYYYYYYYYY!!!!!!!!!!!!"

We have a drill for this kind of thing. Just as I picked up the phone to tell the people up front not to let anyone with a kid out the door, there was a soft, sleepy, "What?" from the stroller. The stroller that had been in front of Mommy the whole time. Mommy opened up the flap that covered the thing and there was Johnny wiping the nap's eye-snot away.

She was picking up Norco. Which is as surprising as the fact that God still hasn't gone back on his promise not to drown us all again.  It's supposed to rain again tomorrow. Hope springs eternal.

A Real World True Story Medical Professionals May Find Entertaining, But Not The Least Bit Surprising.

Because we've all waited on this lady.

I can guarantee you she has an established relationship with her pharmacist. And that it is not a good one.

From "News Of The Weird", which I've mentioned before is the best newspaper column ever:

Responding to a domestic-dispute call at the I-77 Motor Inn in Fairplain, W.Va., in October, sheriff's deputies encountered Melissa Williams naked from the waist down and holding a knife. Two men in the room (one, her estranged husband) said Williams had threatened them. "(S)omebody," she reportedly said, "is going to eat my (vulgar anatomical reference) or I'm going to cut your (expletive) throat." The sheriff's report also noted that one of the men approached Williams to comply but was repelled by Williams' "horrible vaginal odor." In November, Williams was sentenced to 90 days in jail.

Yeah...pretty sure I waited on her today.

Exciting News About Potassium Iodide.

FENTON, MO- In an unusual and hastily planned news conference this afternoon, Fleming and Company, manufacturers of  ThyroShield, an over the counter supplement used to protect the thyroid gland in case of a radiation emergency, announced today the product has been given a second official indication by the FDA.

"Starting Monday, March 21st, we are proud to announce that ThyroShield will become the first and only clinically proven agent in the diagnosis of moronism" said Fleming President Phillip Dritsas. While we did not seek this new approval, we are pleased to help in the fight against this horrible affliction"

Sources say that while no formal clinical studies were done to prove ThyroShield's effectiveness in the detection of the thinking impaired, the mad rush of people clamoring for the product in order to be protected from what would be, at most, a smaller dose of radiation than they would be exposed to by standing beside a microwave heating up a TV dinner left no room for doubt. "If you live more than 4,000 miles away from a nuclear accident and feel you must, at great inconvenience to yourself, obtain our product this very second, you are the textbook definition of a goddamn moron" said Dritsas. "Conversely, if you live less than 100 miles from such an occurance and insist on not taking any poassium iodide preparation, you are also dumber than a sack full of kelp."

A sack that many morons, desperate for any source of iodine, would probably eat after watching the latest news from Japan.

ThyroShield is expected to quickly grab most of the moron detection market, which up until now has been dominated by medications such as Oleptro, Moxatag, Pexeva, Doryx, and Acanya that are used off-label for that purpose. These meds, while useful, are mostly effective in identifying morons in the medical professions willing to prescribe them, identifying an idiot in the general public only when they are willing to pay their full retail price.

Moronism affects an estimated 60% of the American population, including anyone who doesn't realize this article is made up. There is no known cure.

A Guest Editorial From Greg Wasson, President And CEO Of Walgreens.

We really have you stupid shits eating right from our hands.

Look, running a drugstore isn't rocket science. It all comes down to a basic premise, you buy things and then sell them for more than you paid. The less you pay/more you can charge for something the more money you make. It's as simple as that. Thing is, we realized long ago we were never going to be able to contain our costs the way that goddamned hick from Arkansas was able to with his Wal-Mart. Little fucker built up his business betting people would confuse his place with ours and he was right. Anyway, we need a different strategy to be able to compete in the retail jungle, and that's where the monkeys in the white coats we keep in the back come in.

You really think it makes us different. The pharmacists in the back and the mortar and pestle we use in our logo. We'll blow smoke up your ass about having 8,000 "points of care" across the country and 70,000 "healthcare service providers" and you dumbasses eat it up. Whatever it takes to get you to waddle into the store to stock up on the 2 for $5 canned Spam we have on sale this week, or maybe the 39 cent 20 ounce sodas. Shit. I don't give a fuck. Buy the $2.40 potato chips or a flu shot for all I care. Just as long as you leave behind some money.

What I've found over the course of my career is that the best way to get suckers to buy buy buy is to lie lie lie. When I told the trade magazine Drug Store News that it was our vision to "own well" I fully expected their writer to grill me about our decision to sue the city of San Francisco when they banned tobacco sales in pharmacies. It wasn't fair we said, because it allowed those pricks over at Safeway to stay on the tobacco profit gravy train. We went to court to be treated just like any other retailer, but then we wax eloquently into the PR machine that we're some sort of special wellness center. And you brain dead sheep lap it right up! That writer never said a word! He just took dictation and wrote me up a seven page blowjob!

This shit is getting easier every year too. “We are on the front lines of health care with [more than] 70,000 healthcare service providers and growing, We have [more than] 8,000 points of care across the country. What we are building is the most complete national network of integrated healthcare providers and locations in the country.” Now get in here and buy some of our new private label beer you fucking lush. We make more on it than we do on Budweiser, and the fact you're getting it from a place that values wellness so much can make you feel better about washing your life away.

So yeah, that's about all you need to know about how to make it in the drugstore business. I just saved you the time and money it would have taken you to get an MBA. You're welcome. Why don't you use some of that cash and stock up on some Camels and the 2 for $5 Oreos we have on special this week. Because we're committed to stand beside you every step of the way on your wellness journey.

Fucking idiot.

Note- Greg Wasson wrote these words using a word processor that exists only in my imagination.

My Obsession Rises Yet Again.

Not like the sun mind you. The sun is regular and dependable and my obsession is not. The sun is also useful and life giving. Necessary. My obsession is not. It was planted in my mind long ago, and like a shingles virus, it stays out of reach until I am weakened, then it rears its ugly head. Last night as the gin started to soak into my grey matter it pounced yet again.

"How would you kill someone with a newspaper?"

Many years ago you see, I was watching one of those prison documentaries of the type that are on MSNBC late at night and I heard an inmate claim to have done just that. Kill someone using only a newspaper. He seemed quite proud of himself, and I don't really blame him, as I have no idea how you'd pull that off. I waited for the explanation and it never came.  I've thought about it periodically ever since.

Roll it up into a point and jab at their liver? The eyes maybe?

Soak it it water and hold it over the victims face, smothering them?

Twist it into a type of paper rope perhaps, so you could strangle them.....

It's been a good 5 years I bet and those are the best ideas I've been able to come up with. I have a feeling when I hear the answer it's gonna be something incredibly simple and I'm gonna feel really stupid.

Thing is, I have a newspaper within easy reach most of the time now at work. Ironically enough because I couldn't take the cable "news" channels like MSNBC anymore and started a subscription.

So, I've been thinking about how to kill someone with a newspaper a little more often than I used to. A lot actually. Someone asked me again today if you have to go to college to become a pharmacist and I desperately wished I knew how to kill them with the newspaper that was 12 inches from my hand.

I wonder if it's very physically challenging, because my back's still kinda sore.