I...I love the internet. Sorry pharmacy phriends, your beloved has recently moved and does not have internet access in the new digs yet. I can't recount all the happening since I have left, but I can tell you it's been a hell of a few weeks working with new computer systems and trainers from California whose lovely advice consisted of things like "well in California we do blah blah blah this way" and "I'm not sure, you should probably call your buddy store down the street." But alas they left left and the yelling ensued from customers who could obviously see a counter full of new electronic equipment but who could give a frig less and were appalled when the wait time skyrocketed to 45 minutes to an hour. This elicited responses such as "AH HOUR?!?!" and "JESUS what the hell are you guys doing back there!?!?"
sigh.
And the new cover of Drug Topics is a boat made of hypodermic needles. Weird.

But do not fear chitlins, I have not forsaken you. These visits should be more frequent now that we get WiFi here in hell and I am fortunate enough to have a laptop.
Happy dispensing to all, and to all a good night...

I'm torn: laugh or look away?

Okay, I think laugh on this one. Oxycodone and Viagra combined? Good times, good times; you'll see.........




Sorry - I had to.

Uncle! An open letter to my phones.

You win, phone; you win. Your incessant ringing and lady who says "PHARMACY, YOU HAVE A CALL....BLAHHHHH (LOUD BEEPING NOISE, SOUNDS LIKE BLAHHHHHHH)" have me beaten. That's just the start.....then one must answer said phone. I've changed my greeting to make things stupefied for my stupids, but same result. Here's a few examples:

PP: This is phrustrated, how may I help you?

Now, this seems like it has it all, no? I state my name, speak in a calm, soothing tone of voice and ask politely how I may be of service. Nope. Here's the responses I get:

1. Yeah, uhhh, is this phrustrated? (No, I like to lie about my identity right from the get-go)
2. Yeah, uhhh, did my doctor call yous? (Whenever you hear "yous" - run. Run real fast)
3. Yeah, uhhh, is my subscription done? (Where to begin?)
4. Yeah, uhhh, my doctor was supposibly gonna call yous, did he? (There's that yous again)
5. Yeah, uhhh, is this the photo area? (Why do I answer, why?)
6. Yeah, uhhh, I have some numbers....(Congratulations - I will say it one day - I don't know
when, I don't know who - but it's comin' fucka)

You may notice the first greeting of my slack-jawed contingency is "yeah, uhhh." Why is it that people cannot form a coherent sentence/statement/question/thought without the "yeah, uhhh?" I don't get it. I went to elementary/middle school in a poor, retarded town. I escaped (I mean excaped) and am able to speak without a.....ummmm......uhhh.....sttttammmmer.

Here's a bit of free advice:

Everybody's time is valuable in some way, shape or form. Think of what you're going to say ahead of time and identify yourself in some manner, please. I don't know who the fuck you are (well, actually, sometimes I do) and I don't know who your doctor is (well, sometimes I do). Chances are I'm going to reply by saying "That would all depend on who you are and who your doctor is." Never fails - next response "oh." No, your name is not "oh" fucker (unless you are by some strange miracle in fact Saduharu Oh of Japanese baseball fame - not so much). So, tell me these things three when calling:

1. Your (fucking) name - no stuttering
2. State your intentions in ten words or less
3. Your doctor if applicable

If you have refills use the automated system. It is 2008 and we've all evolved - except you phone in your numbers guy. I've tried it, it's not hard. I won't go into detail, but just mottle through and make my life a little more peaceful.

I got into an argument with a deaf woman....

.....and I lost. It wasn't a fair fight, really. First of all, it was a phone conversation. Yeah, that's right (thanks New York State). NY has a system called "NYS Relay" for the deaf/hearing impaired. It works by the deaf/hearing impaired person typing into a prompter/futuristic device ----> to an operator whom interprets and speaks to you (and says "GO AHEAD" after every fucking statement). You then respond (go ahead) -----> operator types what you say to the deaf/hearing impaired person. Let it be known a normal conversation is about as much fun as getting the back of your balls hit with a spiked bat. Now, I have nothing against deaf people; I had a late uncle who was deaf (from birth) and was quite affable. The hearing impaired, however (read: old crotchety people), are on my shitlist. Hear's (pardon the pun) how the convo went:

Me: Pharmacy, may I help you?

Operator: This is NYS relay, have you..

M: "go ahead"

O: Hi.........my........name........is.........Helen........Keller.......I......need.......rxs......delivered.......(ga)
note: (ga) will now = "go ahead" for typing/sanity purposes
M: What are the numbers (ga)?

O: I..........don't..........have............them............I...........was...........told...........to.............call..........your...
store........b/c.........you..........have...........delivery................(ga)

M: (I like where this is headed - look in Helen's profile --- last filled 2004 - fuck me) All of your rxs are expired, we'll have to contact your doctor (ga).

O: But..........I.............get..........them..........at............a..........different............chain............store......(ga)

M: We'll have to transfer the rxs to our store (ga)

O: But.........I..........was..........told.........you..........deliver...........(ga)

M: (What?) What? (ga)

O: When..........will.............I............get..........my............rxs..............?.........(ga)

M: I don't have them here, I'll have to obtain them from the other store (Oh, yeah, the rxs at said location were expired/outa refills and it was Christmas Eve - no delivery or hope until Jesus's b-day was over) (ga)

O: But.........I...........was...........told.........to.........call..........you.............(ga)

M: I don't dispute that fact (ga)

I'll end the misery here. This went on for TWENTY, count 'em, TWENTY fucking minutes of my semi-valuable life I will never get back. I stayed up twenty minutes later that night to try, but it just wasn't the same.

I hate relay calls, but the deaf/hearing impaired need phones too. I'm just glad it wasn't a Jetson's vis-a-phone or I would have really been up shit's creek. As frustrating as the relay calls may be, they beat the hell out of my knowledge of sign language - which only consists of "fuck you asshole." Come to think, that would've worked. Jesus loves me, this I know because NY relay tells me so.

Happy New Year (I think)