Hola no one! Because I'm pretty sure that's who's left checking out my little blog garden after almost two and a half years of no posting. And what a two and a half years it's been! Trump's back! Now I know how much you guys loved my rants on politics, I could watch the number of hits here go down and down the more days in a row I talked about George The Formerly Worst Bush back in the day, but I just wanna throw out a reply I got on my old Twitter account when I was bitching the night of the 2024 election from a user by the name of @theNickNiti
Replying to @drugmonkey
The Drama.. Ohh no you may have to suffer another 4 years of no wars, secure borders, and low inflation... What a curse!
BBBBBBBWWWWWWWAAAAAAHHHHHAHAAHHHHAAAHHHAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!
I'll just say I've reached out to @theNickNiti several times since then, and have heard nothing back. Which says it all really.
But you don't need me to tell you about Dorito Jesus. I know what you're really not interested in is what I've been up to, so I'll tell you. Just kinds livin' really. I read like a man possessed, bounce my radio waves around the world and off the amateur radio satellites as they whiz by, go to the coast often and to Mexico once to scout out a possible escape place, take naps, and once, against my better judgement, agreed to help the local non-profit pharmacy that a Mr. Moneybags had set up in this town to take my place.
You see, it seems they were taking the non-profit part of their mission a little too seriously, as a pile of unreconciled insurance rejects had piled up because the inexperienced pharmacist in charge was in over his head. To be fair, the computer system they were using sucks donkey balls. I know this because it was the same one I used back in the day, and this poor bastard didn't have any one to teach him. So what the hell, I'll go down there and do my good deed for the day. I sat down in the back with a pile of paper and started dialing PBM help desks for dollars.
It started out well when the first place said my call was very important to them. It went down hill from there. Prior auths, step therapy, mysterious codes that had to be put in mysterious places that didn't exist on the computer screen, which necessitated a call to the software vendor who I think I might have stiffed out of the last month's money I owed them. They were gracious about it though, because the first thing their little machine told me was that my call was very important to them.
I gotta hand it to Express Scripts though. They don't give you any of that important call bullshit. They make it pretty clear they don't want your goddamn call at all.
Anyway, after a morning of this, the pharmacist asked if I would mind manning the counter while he grabbed lunch. Would I!! Hell yeah! A chance to get back in the saddle for old times sake and do some real phamacyn', returning to my position of community prominence, if only for half an hour.
The other pharmacist left and the first customer through the door was a guy I used to call Mr. Norco. He came to the counter with a...wait for it...empty Norco bottle and immediately went into his story about why he needed it early. It was like he was picking up right where he left off three years ago. After a couple minutes he tried a tack he was never able to when I was the only drugslinger in town.
"THE OTHER GUY ALWAYS LETS ME GET IT!!
"You can take it up with him after one." I said, while seeing in his profile that the other guy did not, in fact, always let him get it.
This was followed by a lady who gave me a prescription cash discount card and informed me in the way one informs a servant that this was her insurance from her husband's employer and the copay would be $10. She took the truth in the calm, sane rational way of an intelligent person who made a minor mistake. In my fantasy world. In reality she fought tooth and nail over a $14.76 bill in the way of a mother fighting for the life of her only child. The prescription was for vitamin drops.
The next person gave me a Medicare Part D card that was three years old. The one after that had an insurance plan that didn't cover promethazine DM. He took the explanation in the reasoned, logical way of an edsucated man who can understand that there is no shortage of DM products over the counter.
Ha ha. Not really. he called me stupid and said he was going to Wal Mart.
And then I realized, that old pharmacy feeling was back. The muscles tensing up in the back of the head, the jumpiness, the anxiety, being able to see your pulse in the flashes before your eyes. It was like the return of an old friend. A friend who wants to kick you in the nuts every time he sees you. I had been living a normal life so long I had forgotten what it feels like to man a house of drugs.
The other pharmacist came back from lunch and I told him I had done about all I could for him. I made it to my car and felt the way of pharmacy drain from me like a flush making its way to the septic tank. I will, never, ever, set foot behind a pharmacy counter for as long as I live.
And I didn't even tell you about the woman who got her eye pecked by a chicken. At least I have another two and a half years of no wars, secure borders, and low inflation on the horizon.
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