I’m at work in the pharmacy. I get a customer call.

Me: “Thanks for calling Crab Shack! Oh wait…”

Caller: “Did… did I call a restaurant?”

Me: “No, sorry. That’s my other job. I had a brain fart.”

Caller: “Oh geez. You must be tired.”

Me: “Yeah, a little. I’m looking around to make sure that this is the pharmacy and not the crab shack or the pet groomers.”

Caller: “You work three jobs?!”

Me: “Living the American dream! Now would you like medicine, crabs, or are we setting up an appointment for Fluffy to get a trim? I can do it all.”

The customer laughs (a little sadly) and just tells me they’re calling to see if their medication was ready. When they came in to collect, they asked if I was the girl on the phone and gave me a pack of gummies and a zero-sugar energy drink.

A customer comes in for his prescription.

Me: “Can I get your name?”

Customer: “They know my name!”

Me: “Yes, but I don’t.”

Customer: “I was just here last week!”

Me: “Yeah, you and a thousand other people. I don’t remember any of their names either.”

Customer: “But I’m here every week!”

Me: “What’s my name?”

Customer: “Huh?”

Me: “You’re here every week, and there are three of us who work here. I’m here every day and deal with thousands of customers. If you expect us to remember your name, then it should be the easiest thing in the world for you to remember mine.”

Customer: “…”

Me: “…”

Customer: “John Smith.”

Why do I get this every day?!

Customer: “I just quit smoking, so I need some of them nicotine patch things.” 

I get them from the locked glass case behind the counter.

Customer: *Yelling.* “Make sure they’re menthol! I’m used to smoking menthols!”

Me: “Uh… menthol is a flavor.”

Customer: “Yeah? And?”

Me: “These are patches…”

Customer: “…”

Me: “For your skin.”

Customer: “Yeah, and I want them menthol!”

Not one to discourage someone trying to quit smoking, I gave her some peppermint body spray samples (for free) and told her to apply the nicotine patch first and then spray the peppermint around it to “make it stick”.

A customer walks over to me at the counter with both a laxative and an antidiarrheal.

Customer: “Which of these is to make me stop, and make me go?”

I explain which one is which.

The customer buys both, and then gets out a sharpie from their bag and simply writes ‘Morning’ on the laxative, and ‘Evening’ on the antidiarrheal.

Customer: “Made a mistake last time. Was a messy night.”

I was about to ask why they needed them each morning/night in the first place, but they were gone before I could verbally recover.

I’m in line to pick up my meds. There’s a sign at the pharmacy counter:

Sign: “Husbands! Picking up your wife’s medications? Please have her date of birth ready to go. Don’t know it? Give her a call! If you don’t know it, we’re not telling you!”

When the old guy in front of me is getting served:

Customer: “That sign’s a bit sexist, isn’t it?”

Pharmacist: “I’ll tell you what I’ve been telling customers for years: when I get a wife who’s forgotten her husband’s date of birth, I’ll change it.”