The Pharmacy Chick

Pharmacy chick was enjoying a leisurely lunch at a local restaurant. She doesn’t mind dining alone on her days off. Mr Chick was working. Its normally a quiet restaurant by the time I go in, usually after the normal lunch hour. I prefer the non-peak times to eat. About half way thru my meal, I heard a commotion at the front of the store. Some guy was giving the host a bad time. I couldn’t see what was going on, but I could certainly HEAR it. His wife had come in to ask to use the bathroom, and this place has a sign CLEARLY on the door stating “no public restrooms”. Its for good reason. Its a small eatery in an area that gets a lot of foot traffic. They simply cannot have people traipsing thru their restaurant just to pee. Besides, they only have a one-holer for each gender. Its their right to limit their bathrooms for their customers and thats how it is.

Well, this woman’s husband took exception to them telling her they have no public restrooms. He was making a scene. The voice sounded familiar but I couldn’t place it. “YES!, we WERE intending on eating here”I heard him say.. I gathered that they had perhaps intended on buying food but made no mention of that fact before she asked to use the bathrooms. I had no idea if they decided to eat there or not from my vantage point.

I finished my lunch and got up to pay my bill. There was only one other table seated in the restaurant, and older man in a hat and a woman. OMG, NOW I knew that voice! That guy had given me hassles at my pharmacy for a couple of years before moving to a different part of town and transferring his files (lets have a party!) to a competitor. He was an ass from the first day he blew in til the day he finally left. He was from a small town and thought that we were going to bend to his every will. No, I don’t have charge accounts, you pay when you come in. No, I don’t have a direct line to the dr’s desk. Call in your refills 2 days ahead of time. No, I don’t deliver either. If you want 90 days, then the Dr has to write it for 90 days. No, I cannot carry the oval furosemide, I carry the round ones. And all holy Hell burst out when his plan introduced the dreaded “tier 3″ drugs.

In short, he was a consumate butthead. Jerkface. Ass. Blowhard. Whatever. He never used the automated refill line, he always had to Talk-To-The-Pharmacist to give us his precious refill number. AND, he always had to tell us some accompanying story. There was no short phone call with this guy. He also preferred to have the white-coats ring him up. If the techs had to ring him up he would always have some “question” to drag the pharmacist over to the counter.

He was Mr Self Important, and Pharmacy Chick is not impressed with that kind of attitude. I have no respect for people to treat others, subordinate or not, disrespectful. We need waiters, hosts, grounds keepers, and maintenance people, just like we need brain surgeons and nuclear physicists. I used to wait tables in my student days. As far as I am concerned we are all working stiffs in some capacity.

He saw me leave the restaurant. We made brief eye contact. I’d like to hope he was embarrased to know somebody heard him rant. I doubt it however. His type is hard to embarass.

I hope somebody spit in his beer.

Tags: behavior, customers, general junk, rambling | |