During my freshman year in high school, my science teacher assigned us to interview people in the community about how they use science in their careers. Although I don’t remember most of the people I spoke with, I can tell you that I spent meaningful time with a local community pharmacist who changed my life.
What I saw was a man who loved his career and truly cared for his patients. In an instant, I knew that I wanted to become a pharmacist, and I never wavered from that goal throughout high school.
Knowing what you want to be when you grow up at age 14 is unusual, but it is very liberating. I simply had to work backwards to figure out how to achieve my goal of becoming a pharmacist.
After high school, I chose to attend Ohio Northern University (ONU) because it had a unique pharmacy program. Rather than attending college for 2 years and then applying to the pharmacy program, ONU students were admitted to the College of Pharmacy from day one.
Although it was expensive, being in pharmacy school from day one and avoiding the risk of rejection made it worthwhile for me.
In college, I spent a lot of time in the library. Although the classwork was difficult, I did well with one exception: organic chemistry.
I did fail organic chemistry—a notorious “weed out” course—but I successfully retook the class over the summer and graduated on time with the rest of my classmates. Failing a course is a difficult stumbling block, but I stood strong and persevered.
Today, I’m thankful for the wonderful pharmacy profession for so many reasons.
First, I’m thankful that community pharmacists are the health care professionals most accessible to the public. If my local pharmacist wasn’t accessible to me, then I likely would have taken a different career path.
Second, I’m proud of the work we pharmacists do, the diversity of our career options, and the relationships we share with our patients and fellow health care providers.
Pharmacy is a profession that makes a real difference in people’s lives. It certainly has made all the difference in mine.
Bad Behavior, Cambridgeshire, College & University, England, Harassment, Health & Body, UK | Romantic | December 18, 2018
(There is a girl in my college class who was in a bad car accident when she was in her early teens, which resulted in her being heavily scarred down the left side of her body — including severe facial scarring — having a pronounced limp, and missing her left arm. Psychologically speaking, she’s sound, and she’s a very independent person, though also very quiet and polite. There’s this guy in our class who’s always jumping up to help her with everything, despite the fact she asks him not to and constantly says she doesn’t need his help and that she’s okay. Over a month later, she’s kind of given up telling him to stop because 1: she doesn’t like confrontation and 2: she’s aware it’s coming from a “good place,” so to speak. Well, that’s what we all thought, anyway. It’s just before lesson, and the guy has asked to talk to the girl alone, so she goes a little bit away to chat. Since he wants to talk to the girl alone, we all watch from a respectable distance. We can see him speaking, then her putting her hand up in front of her. And we’re like, “Oh, he just asked her out and she said no.” She goes to head back, but he stops her and talks a bit more animatedly. She’s a bit more aggressive with her hand gesture back, and walks as quickly as she can back to the group. He follows quite angrily, so we start to walk towards her, as well, just in case.)
Guy: *shouting* “But why?! I’m a nice guy! I did all those things for you!”
Girl: *firmly and fairly loudly* “I didn’t ask you to! In fact, I asked you not to, and you ignored me.”
Guy: “But I still did it! You owe me!”
Girl: “I don’t owe you anything.”
(Our male teacher has arrived at the area at this point, and is also making his way over in case he needs to intervene.)
Guy: “No one else will date you! Not with those scars! You won’t get anyone better than me! I’m willing to look past those scars; don’t think you’ll find anyone else that will!”
(There’s mass shock and everyone freezes. Someone in the group, no idea who, gasps.)
Girl: “Go suck a d**k!”
(More mass shock follows, and another gasp, though there are also some titters.)
Guy: “[Teacher]! Did you hear what she said?!”
Teacher: “You can’t suck my d**k; that’s illegal!”
(The guy stormed off. He went and complained about “bullying by classmates and the teacher” to the reception, which was quickly dropped when the situation was fully explained. He quit college soon after because others found out somehow. Don’t be a “Nice Guy.”)
Boyfriend/Girlfriend, home, Illinois, Movies & TV, USA | Romantic | December 10, 2018
(There’s a cartoon series that I really like, and I’ve finally talked my girlfriend into watching it with me. Note that she’s really into cars, and I’m not. We get a few episodes in, and she’s enjoying the series, when we see the main character driving for the first time, and she sits bolt upright.)
Girlfriend: “Oh, my God! The car he’s driving! Do you know what that is?!”
Me: “Um… It’s an old car?”
Girlfriend: “That’s a Mercedes Benz SSK! That’s one of the rarest cars in the world! Less than 40 were ever made! Holy cow, I can’t believe they included that! That’s so awesome!”
(As she’s waxing poetic about the car, I remember what comes next in this episode, and freeze. Sure enough, only a minute or two after it appears onscreen, the driver crashes, and the cartoon car is totaled.)
Girlfriend: “…”
Me: “…”
Girlfriend: “NOOOOOOOO!”
Me: “They wreck that car about once per episode. You’re probably not going to watch this with me anymore, are you?”
Girlfriend: “It may do bad things to my blood pressure.”
(She did eventually watch more of it with me, but the car remains a running joke between us!)
Bad Behavior, Bizarre, Car, Health & Body, Idaho, Pocatello, Spouses & Partners, USA | Romantic | December 8, 2018
(I have PTSD from being in a severe car accident as a child that resulted in a traumatic brain injury. I am mostly recovered and normal as an adult. I prefer to have my wife drive on days when my PTSD is acting up. There’s just this one thing: when she’s driving and sneezes, she grips the wheel with a death grip, shuts her eyes tight, and shakes the wheel side-to-side, making the whole vehicle move side-to-side on the road. This is brown-pants-level terrifying for me. She thinks I’m being a baby about it. We have a dumb fight over it, and then get over it. The next week her parents are in town. Her father is driving us somewhere and he’s driving way above the speed limit. Suddenly, he sneezes, and in doing so, grips and shakes the wheel violently, which causes the vehicle to suddenly merge into a different lane.)
Wife: *with terror in her eyes* “Sorry about last week. You were right.”
Bad Behavior, Bizarre, Car, Health & Body, Idaho, Pocatello, Spouses & Partners, USA | Romantic | December 8, 2018
(I have PTSD from being in a severe car accident as a child that resulted in a traumatic brain injury. I am mostly recovered and normal as an adult. I prefer to have my wife drive on days when my PTSD is acting up. There’s just this one thing: when she’s driving and sneezes, she grips the wheel with a death grip, shuts her eyes tight, and shakes the wheel side-to-side, making the whole vehicle move side-to-side on the road. This is brown-pants-level terrifying for me. She thinks I’m being a baby about it. We have a dumb fight over it, and then get over it. The next week her parents are in town. Her father is driving us somewhere and he’s driving way above the speed limit. Suddenly, he sneezes, and in doing so, grips and shakes the wheel violently, which causes the vehicle to suddenly merge into a different lane.)
Wife: *with terror in her eyes* “Sorry about last week. You were right.”
California, Harassment, Liars/Scammers, Los Angeles, Strangers, Street, USA | Romantic | December 6, 2018
(I am out late at night, walking to a convenience store. I lead a largely nocturnal schedule so I sometimes have to go to stores at night. I live in an okay neighborhood, but not completely safe, so I do my best not to look like an attractive target for harassment or robbery. There is nothing I can do to hide being female, but I wear old frumpy clothes, going for a look somewhere between “poor” and “homeless.” This evening, about a block before I reach the store, a young guy in sweats and a hoodie, who’s casually walking in the other direction by me on the street, suddenly stops and turns to me.)
Guy: “Hey. Do you have any change to spare for me so I can take the bus?”
(It is too late for any bus line in this area to be running. I don’t carry any cash, in any case.)
Me: “No, I don’t. Sorry.”
Guy: “Oh, okay.” *goes on his way*
(Half a minute later, when he’s walked at least four house lengths away from me
Guy: “Hey! Hey! HEY! HEY! HEY!”
(I turn around and see he’s actually got his hands around the sides of his mouth to more effectively shout at me.)
Guy: “Hey! Do you wanna [unintelligible]?”
(I make a gesture that I don’t understand him.)
Guy: “Do you wanna [unintelligible]?”
(I make another gesture that I can’t hear.)
Guy: “Do you wanna [unintelligible]?”
(The best I could make it out in the moment, it sounded something like, “Do you wanna fight?” I was bit alarmed, and gestured again that I couldn’t hear him. Instead of doing anything sensible, like walking closer to me, the guy started making the “come here” beckoning gesture with his hands that is usually only made to little children. Having had quite enough of this dude bothering me, and having recently had another bad experience after a man made that same exact “come here” hand gesture at me and I was stupid enough to obey, I physically reared back while making a very alarmed expression, turned back around, and hurried super-fast in the opposite direction from him, to the store I was going to. Luckily, he didn’t follow me. Later, after going over the sounds in my head several times, I realized he had actually been calling at me, “Do you wanna ride?” Yes, the guy who’d just thirty seconds previously asked me to give him change so that he could take a — non-existent — bus, now decided it made sense to try to lure me in by offering me a ride.)
California, Harassment, Liars/Scammers, Los Angeles, Strangers, Street, USA | Romantic | December 6, 2018
(I am out late at night, walking to a convenience store. I lead a largely nocturnal schedule so I sometimes have to go to stores at night. I live in an okay neighborhood, but not completely safe, so I do my best not to look like an attractive target for harassment or robbery. There is nothing I can do to hide being female, but I wear old frumpy clothes, going for a look somewhere between “poor” and “homeless.” This evening, about a block before I reach the store, a young guy in sweats and a hoodie, who’s casually walking in the other direction by me on the street, suddenly stops and turns to me.)
Guy: “Hey. Do you have any change to spare for me so I can take the bus?”
(It is too late for any bus line in this area to be running. I don’t carry any cash, in any case.)
Me: “No, I don’t. Sorry.”
Guy: “Oh, okay.” *goes on his way*
(Half a minute later, when he’s walked at least four house lengths away from me
Guy: “Hey! Hey! HEY! HEY! HEY!”
(I turn around and see he’s actually got his hands around the sides of his mouth to more effectively shout at me.)
Guy: “Hey! Do you wanna [unintelligible]?”
(I make a gesture that I don’t understand him.)
Guy: “Do you wanna [unintelligible]?”
(I make another gesture that I can’t hear.)
Guy: “Do you wanna [unintelligible]?”
(The best I could make it out in the moment, it sounded something like, “Do you wanna fight?” I was bit alarmed, and gestured again that I couldn’t hear him. Instead of doing anything sensible, like walking closer to me, the guy started making the “come here” beckoning gesture with his hands that is usually only made to little children. Having had quite enough of this dude bothering me, and having recently had another bad experience after a man made that same exact “come here” hand gesture at me and I was stupid enough to obey, I physically reared back while making a very alarmed expression, turned back around, and hurried super-fast in the opposite direction from him, to the store I was going to. Luckily, he didn’t follow me. Later, after going over the sounds in my head several times, I realized he had actually been calling at me, “Do you wanna ride?” Yes, the guy who’d just thirty seconds previously asked me to give him change so that he could take a — non-existent — bus, now decided it made sense to try to lure me in by offering me a ride.)
Food & Drink, Geography, Non-Dialogue, Oklahoma, Restaurant, Spouses & Partners, USA | Romantic | December 4, 2018
A few years ago my husband I traveled from Ireland to the USA to complete a coast-to-coast road trip. One day we stopped for lunch in a restaurant that sold every variety of soda you can think of.
At the time, I had seen a lot of talk online about the Mexican version of a popular soda; people were going crazy over it because it apparently tasted so much better than the American version. The restaurant had the Mexican version in stock — at an inflated price of course — and I decided to order one to see what the fuss was about.
My drinks arrived and I took a sip, only to find it tasted exactly like the soda at home. I asked my husband to try it, too, and he said the same thing. That’s when I realised that the Mexican version of the soda is made with real cane sugar, just like in Ireland, and the American version is made with fructose corn syrup. I basically traveled all the way to America to pay through the nose for the same drink we can get at home! My husband still hasn’t let me live it down.
Boyfriend/Girlfriend, Food & Drink, home, Lazy/Unhelpful, Norfolk, USA, Virginia | Romantic | December 2, 2018
(My boyfriend says that his parents will be in town for a brief visit in two weeks and have expressed an interest in meeting me. We decide that a quiet dinner at my home would be best, which I don’t mind, as I enjoy playing host. As I’m trying to plan the menu, I keep sending my boyfriend recipe ideas and asking him about his parents’ preferences.)
Me: “Is there any food your parents particularly like or dislike? Do they like spicy food or prefer to keep it mild? Are there any foods they’re allergic to? Do they have any sort of dietary restrictions I should know about?”
Boyfriend: “I’m sure anything you pick out will be wonderful and they’ll love it.”
Me: “Yes, but I also want to be considerate of their tastes.”
Boyfriend: “You’re overthinking it. You’re an awesome cook, and they’ll love whatever you make for them.”
(Realizing I’m not going to get any sort of help, I plan what I think to be a well-rounded menu complete with salad, an appetizer that contains shellfish, a main course featuring beef tenderloin, and a dessert that contains chocolate. Fast forward to the fateful evening; food-wise, everything is coming out looking delicious. I meet the parents, and while they seem to respond favorably to me, I notice between the two of them they’ve barely touched their food. I don’t want to call attention to this fact, but I’m worried something is wrong. They end up excusing themselves early, asking my boyfriend to take them back to his home. He quickly sneaks in a kiss on the way out, saying he’ll call. An hour later he calls.)
Me: “So, is everything all right? Your parents didn’t seem to like the anything I made for them and were wanting to get out of here pretty quickly.”
Boyfriend: “Yeah, the food was a bust for them. We’re at [Nearby Restaurant] right now and they’re getting something to eat. I excused myself to the bathroom to call you really quick.”
Me: “Did I do something wrong?”
Boyfriend: “I thought your food was delicious.” *sigh* “It’s just that… Well, my father doesn’t eat any type of salad except potato salad. My mother is a pescetarian, meaning she’ll eat fish, but not meat, and the only beef my father will eat is ground beef. Not to mention the only types of side dishes he’ll eat are either pasta, potatoes, or biscuits, not vegetables like you made. Oh, and my mother is allergic to chocolate.”
Me: “…”
Boyfriend: “…”
Me: *annoyed* “And you didn’t think any of this information was important enough to tell me when I was planning the menu? I asked you about these things and was told, ‘whatever I make is fine.’”
Boyfriend: “Yeah, I f***** up, didn’t I?”
Me: “Big time.”
(And that’s the story of how I first met — and starved — my in-laws. Since I’ve been with their son, they’ve come to love the dishes I make, as long as I keep their preferences and dietary restrictions in mind.)
Coworkers, Harassment, Kansas, Non-Dialogue, Office, Rude & Risque, USA | Romantic | November 30, 2018
I have been working at my current company for about three years now as a trainer. This company seems to experience higher-than-average turnover due to the stress of the job and lack of management. I recently announced that I will be leaving this company to become a trainer elsewhere. As soon as I announced that I was leaving, one of the employees I trained started acting a little “friendly.” It seems that he has always had a crush on me, but has kept it professional.
When he heard that I was leaving, he asked me to go get a drink with him, multiple times. I turned down each request, as I am married; he is even friends with my husband. However, tonight I received a direct message from him on Facebook, followed by a picture notification. Dreading what it contained, I had my husband open it. Yep. Dick pic. It was accompanied by a message saying, “You always make me laugh. I wish you weren’t leaving.”
Hotel, Parents/Guardians, Silly, USA | Romantic | November 28, 2018
(This takes place in the midwest of the USA in the 1970s. I wasn’t born at the time this story took place but I’ve heard it multiple times. My father is your stereotypical New Englander, which includes hating to spend money. When my parents first met, my dad owned two suits; he’d wear one all week, then take it to the dry cleaners and wear the second for a week. He also had only one belt, which Mom says “was held together by about 200 staples,” because he refused to spend money on a new belt. One of the first things she did when they got married was buy him several new suits. He has to go on a business trip and this is what happens when he returns.)
Dad: “You dressed me too nicely!”
Mom: “Why? What happened?”
Dad: “When I got into the elevator, a woman got in with me, leaned over, and whispered how nice I looked and asked if I would like to go back to her room!”
Mom: *trying not to laugh at Dad’s ignorance* “Honey, that was a prostitute!”
home, Language & Words, Sillly, Spouses & Partners, USA | Romantic | November 26, 2018
(When my TV is on but idle, it runs a slideshow of various photos and paintings. One night when my partner and I are settling in, we turn on the TV to the image of a bright orange sunset. My partner was an art student, and often has to explain to me who famous artists are.)
Partner: “Wow. That’s pretty. It looks… Aya Surani.”
Me: “Oh? Does she shoot landscapes and stuff like this?”
Partner: *clearly confused* “Wha… No, from Lord of the Rings. It looks Eye of Sauron-y.”
(When I explained what I thought I’d heard, we had a good laugh for about five minutes. I just assumed Aya Surani was a photographer I’d never heard of. The kicker? My partner hasn’t even seen the movies or read the books!)
Boyfriend/Girlfriend, Extra Stupid, Grocery Store, Oklahoma, USA | Romantic | January 10, 2019
(My boyfriend has taken a liking to a European candy that randomly showed up in our local grocery store, but once they run out of the first shipment they never seem to restock. We find the same candy at another branch of the store, but the packaging seems much smaller than the ones we got before.)
Boyfriend: “Huh, these only come in fours; the ones we got before were in eights.”
Me: “Maybe we accidentally had two stuck together last time and didn’t realize.”
Boyfriend: “That couldn’t be it. The alarms would have gone off, then, wouldn’t they?”
Me: *looking at him quizzically* “Huh?”
Boyfriend: “Yeah, if you don’t scan the barcode, then the alarms by the doors will detect it and go off, right?”
Me: *fighting down laughter* “That… that’s not… those sensors detect the electronic tags they put on expensive items, not barcodes!”
Boyfriend: “What?”
Me: *still trying not to laugh* “How would it detect a barcode through your bags? Even the checkouts can’t do that!”
Boyfriend: “So… Wait, what keeps people from stealing the stuff without tags?!”
Me: “Cameras and common decency!”
(I swear my boyfriend is normally very smart, but I was reminded very strongly that day that he has never in his life worked retail.)
Boston, Extra Stupid, Geography, home, Massachusetts, Spouses & Partners, USA | Romantic | January 9, 2019
(When my wife and I are still dating, we usually stop by her parents’ place when we finish working on Fridays. On this particular Friday, we are going to have a barbecue. However, before we get there, my future father-in-law, who is doing the cooking, desperately needs the bathroom. Given that his wife is busy working on dessert and his other daughter is fast asleep, he trusts his son to man the grill while he runs in to do his business. This is his son who, despite pushing 30, has never cooked anything without a microwave. By the time we walk in the door, the whole meal is charcoal.)
Wife: “How about we just get some sandwiches from [Irish Name]’s?”
(We all agree and write down our orders.)
Wife: “I’ll help them clean up. Why don’t you go get the sandwiches? Follow [Her Street] to [Major Street]. [Irish Name]’s is right on the corner there.”
(Off I walk. When I get to the intersection, I am directly in front of a barbershop. Across [Her Street] from the barbershop is a Western Union. Across [Major Street] from the barbershop is a gas station and body shop. Across [Major Street] from the Western Union is a condominium. There’s not one place called [Irish Name]’s. Without a clue, a pop into the barbershop to ask if any of them know of [Irish Name]’s. The two barbers have never heard of any such place. I know I didn’t mishear which street I’m supposed to stop at. Even if I did, following her street the other way to the next major street would take me to a church, a cemetery, and two private houses. So, I walk up this street until I get to the next intersection. There’s a mini-mart — no sandwiches — an apartment building, a florist, and a dentist. I walk back the other way. A bakery — no sandwiches — a Chinese restaurant, a cab depot, and a realtor. Out of ideas and having wasted a fair bit of time, I walk back to her parents’ house.)
Wife: “Where have you been? And where are the sandwiches?”
Me: “Where am I going?”
Wife: “[Irish Name]’s!”
Me: “Where is it?”
Wife: “ON THE CORNER!”
Me: “There is no [Irish Name]’s on any corner.”
Wife: “Of course there is! I got my lunch there just last week!”
Me: “Well, the barbers down the corner said they’ve never heard of it. How about you show me where?”
(The two of us walk back down to [Major Street]. She leads me across towards the gas station… and then continues walking past it.)
Me: *pointing behind us* “You said it was on this corner.”
Wife: “It is!”
(She walks into the building directly behind the gas station.)
Me: “This isn’t the corner. The gas station is on the corner.”
Wife: “Gas stations don’t count. This is the corner.”
(Unwilling to continue this discussion, I just roll my eyes. As I do, I glance at the name of the place we’ve walked into.)
Me: “This also isn’t [Irish Name]’s. This is [Italian Name with a completely different starting letter and more syllables]’s.”
Wife: “This place is always being sold and renamed. We don’t bother following. It was [Irish Name]’s when we first moved here, so we just call it [Irish Name]’s.”
Boyfriend/Girlfriend, Games, home, Language & Words, Pennsylvania, USA | Romantic | January 8, 2019
(My boyfriend and I are playing a video game where you can get hit with electricity that either shocks or stuns you. We’re playing on two different monitors. He gets hit.)
Boyfriend: “Oh, no, I’m stunned.”
(About five minutes later, I hear
Boyfriend: “Now I’m shocked.”
Me: *not able to help myself* “What’s next? You’re going to be appalled?”
Harassment, home, Phone, Strangers, Tennessee, USA | Romantic | January 7, 2019
(It’s very late at night, and I am sound asleep when my phone rings.)
Me: *groggily* “H’lo?”
Voice: “[Not My Name]? [Not My Name], it’s Bob.”
Me: “Bob?”
Voice: “Yes. I need to know how you feel about me.”
Me: “What?”
Voice: “Look. I’ve been in love with you for years, and I need to know if you feel the same way.”
Me: “Who is this?”
Voice: *impatiently* “It’s Bob; you know me!”
Me: “It’s 2:30 in the morning. I don’t know who you are, and if you were in love with me, then you’d know better than to call me at this hour.”
Voice: “Look! I just—“
Me: “If you want to talk to me about this, find me and talk to me about it in broad daylight. I don’t love anybody right now. I’m tired. Goodbye.”
(I hung up and went back to sleep. I never got another phone call from the mysterious Bob, and no one ever confessed their hitherto unknown love for me. Seriously, though, there is no confession of love that can’t wait until at least sunrise.)
Bizarre, Harassment, New Zealand, Non-Dialogue, Park, Strangers | Romantic | January 6, 2019
This happens when I am a single 24-year-old. I am walking home through my local park around nine pm — so wickedly late! — when a girl comes up to me. She’s young, maybe 16 or so, and she tells me she’s been sent over by her friend sitting at the picnic tables to ask me for my number. Apparently, her male friend is too shy to ask me himself.
While this might be considered cute to some, I have literally never seen this boy in my life before. I find it stupid and creepy. But then, I have an idea. While I have no interest in the boy, I am curious about his tactics. I let the girl take my number, and she gives me hers as well as his, so I have some back up that he’s “not a creep or anything.”
About an hour later the young man texts me. Nothing spectacular, but with traditional w1ck3d l33t txt sp33k, with no sense of grammar or spelling, asking me about maybe a date. I text back with proper spelling, capitalization, and grammar — as a hint — to suggest that I don’t know him at all, and point out that asking some stranger for their number in the middle of the night is not the smartest thing to do.
Two more rounds of text ensue; he seems puzzled by my lack of interest. Finally, I drop my kicker.
“You don’t know me at all. I’m just some stranger from the park. For all you know, I could be a psychotic ax-murderer.”
Strangely, he never texted me again after that.
I always wonder if he got the hint about harassing strange women, or if he went around freaked out that he might have just gotten himself put onto a hit list.
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