(Regrettably, our local university is the main reason that county STD rates are the second-highest in the state (the highest-ranking county is home to a naval base). Outbreaks are common and rather a grim joke with local healthcare providers. The county has purchased a new emergency radio system and one of their officers has arrived to train our staff on how to use the equipment.)
Instructor: “The great thing about this system is that it is linked to over two hundred towers, state-wide. This means that if you need to, you can communicate not only throughout the county, but with other jurisdictions as well. For example; let’s say you have to set up some kind of emergency clinic at the University for… I don’t know, what’s an epidemic that the students might experience there?”
Me: *without thinking* “Probably chlamydia.”
(My boss shushed me, but our director of nursing almost fell off her chair from laughing so hard.)
(I work at a pharmacy as a cashier. The pharmacist on duty has been working here for years and knows all of our regulars. A customer has a question for him so I forward it over to him without much of a thought.)
Pharmacist: “All right, we’ll try that. Cross your fingers and toes!” *pause* “Okay, it worked. Have a good day!”
(He hangs up the phone and bursts out laughing.)
Pharmacist: “Well, I feel like an a** right now.”
Me: “What happened?”
Pharmacist: “Mrs. [Name]? The one I just got off the phone with? I told her to cross her fingers and toes and she doesn’t have legs.”
Customer: “I’d like to fill a prescription but I also wanted to ask about this medicine.” *puts two boxes of OTC painkillers on the counter* “Can I use this for my migraine?”
(I start by asking her various questions about the migraine to see whether she should get something OTC or if she should see a doctor. I also ask about contraindications for the particular drug. From the answers I get I explain to her that the drug she chose on the shelf is not suitable for her and I go to the shelf to get a different medicine. All in all this has not taken more than a few minutes, and going to the shelf and back a maximum of 15 seconds. As I return she’s really upset with me and snaps.)
Customer: “How come you got so preoccupied with this? I told you I was here to fill a prescription!”
Me: “Okay, just so you know, sir, a three-month supply of this medication is going to cost you about $400.”
Customer: “What?! No. You’re wrong. When I picked it up last it was a third of that!”
(I look up his payment and pick up history in the system.)
Me: “It looks like this new prescription is the same medication as the last but you’re allowed to pick up three months at a time instead of just one. Is that correct?”
Customer: “Yes! But it’s never this expensive!”
Me: “Well, you’re picking up more at one time which is why it is a higher cost.”
Customer: “No! You’re wrong. It’s not supposed to be this expensive!”
Me: “Well, I’m sorry, sir, but we don’t set the prices. Your insurance company tells us what to charge you based on your plan.”
(This commences a 10 minute rant about how this medication is too expensive and he KNOWS he shouldn’t owe this much because he has been in the industry for 20 years and has a PhD.)
Customer: “When I picked it up last month it was only $133! It shouldn’t be $400!”
Me: “So… you previously picked up a one month supply for $133? And you’re upset because this three-month supply is three times the cost of the one-month supply?”
Customer: “YES!”
(Sadly this man did not see the math and proceeded to stay for the next 45 minutes and tell me exactly what was wrong with the entire industry and why it was my fault. Unfortunately, I have more stories about this guy from this 45 minute encounter alone.)
(I work in a pharmacy where I hear about how awful the new healthcare laws are at least four times a day. I personally have Marketplace coverage and keep my mouth shut all the time, but this one is too stupid to overlook
Customer: “I need refills on my medication.”
Me: “Okay, let me look it up… I’m sorry, sir, you have no refills left. I can fax the doctor to ask for more.”
Customer: *stares at me like I just committed murder* “See! This is that d*** Obamacare! I need my medication!”
Me: *in the calmest voice possible* “Sir, do you understand how pharmacy works? You used all your refills already. If you would like I can try to call the White House and see if President Obama can authorize a new prescription.”
(I pick up the phone and call information and ask to be connected to the White House.)
Customer: “Don’t be rude to me! You’re obviously an Obama lover.”
Me: “No, I just wanted you to see how uneducated and ridiculous you sound. By the way Obama is not in the office right now so you’ll have to wait on those refills. Have a great day!”
Cashier: *ringing me up* “Okay, ma’am, your total today comes to—” *pauses a moment and looks like a deer in the headlights* “$6.66…”
(I calmly gets my money to pay and the cashier finishes bagging my items, still looking like a deer in the headlights. Finally my receipt is being printed out.)
Cashier: “Do you, uh, want your receipt?”
Me: “Yes, please!”
Cashier: *takes receipt and crumples it into a ball and TOSSES it onto the counter* “Here you go.”
Me: *shocked* “Uh, thanks…” *takes receipt and straightens it out*
(The clerk opens the drawer under the counter where they keep the stamps. She takes out a book of stamps…and another…and another…and another until every book of stamps in the drawer is on the counter.)
Clerk: “These are all we have. Is this enough for a whole book
(We have a lot of multicultural customers come into our store and as I love languages I like to ask about their accents and learn a phrase or two if I can. A young woman and her elderly mother have been talking in another language before coming to my register.)
Me: “Hi there, did you find everything okay? And do you mind me asking what language that was?”
Daughter: “It’s a dialect of Italian.”
Me: “How would I say ‘have a nice day’?”
Mother: “Fi una bella giornata.”
(As I hand them their purchases.)
Me: “Well, then, fi una bella giornata!”
Daughter: “Very good!”
(The mother then says something in Italian before slapping me in the rear.)
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