Tuesday, October 6, 2015

Talking to My Gun

I had a long talk with my .357 magnum handgun today. He was all like staring off into space and rolling his eyes, but finally started taking me seriously. Guns are like that. Especially those uppity shotguns. They think they're just too cool because people describe them using the word "gauge."

I told him that I will not tolerate him shooting anyone. I told him how guns are responsible for more deaths than terrorists because the final authority on everything, the media, (which has never stretched the truth about anything) said so.

My gun looked at me with his one good eye. (I hate it when he does that). I could sense there was a good question coming. So I braced for it. "How can you compare a weapon itself to people that use weapons? That doesn't make sense," he said.

"Oh my little friend," I said, chuckling. "Logic isn't part of this argument." I laughed again. More people die from car accidents than from people using guns and people killing as and act of terror (with or without using guns) combined, but no one is asking for a ban on car sales!

My little gun looked at me, puzzled. "You don't want me to kill anyone, right?"

"Of course not," I replied.

"But I can't kill anyone! I need a person to load me. I need a person to point me and shoot the bullet. I can't kill anyone," he said, looking sad.

"You're so cute when you try to use logic!" I quipped. "Look at you there... this isn't about you. This is about going after the true culprit in mass shootings! THE GUNS. They alone caused this mess! Now quiet down or I'll trade you in for a tax-payer funded cash for guns drive and get money to buy an even better gun!"

At that point my gun remained silent. You might think he would have become enraged and gone off on a shooting rampage, but no, he just lay there, not moving. In fact, as it turns out, he doesn't really talk, or think, or move, or kill. People kill people, not guns.

Monday, October 5, 2015

Crisis Averted at the Goofmart

Sometimes a sour-faced, obnoxious, pain-in-the-ass patient can come in handy.

Robert ManOwar came in to pick up his medication, in the evening, after all the techs have gone home, AND on a day where I'm working the second shift. And of course, I've missed the first half of the day and am completely blind to most of the issues that happened earlier.

Such is the case with Mr. ManOwar. He's asking for a medication that should be on the shelf waiting for him. It isn't, and there's no explanation why. This happens a lot at my Goofmart, and I've become used to the fact it just makes me look stupid even though I'm not the person at fault. Blaming someone else even when it really is their fault just makes you look like the bad guy. Deal with it.

So while I'm trying to figure out this mess, another sour-faced, obnoxious, pain-in-the-ass patient has entered the line. Instead of patiently waiting by the sign that clearly reads "Please WAIT HERE to preserve patient privacy," she has crept up and is practically breathing down the neck of Mr. ManOwar. He looks at me. I look at him. I look at Mrs. Welldone. She looks back at me. I look back at Mr. ManOwar. They look at each other. It was like a stand off in a Quentin Tarantino film.

I don't want to engage either of them. This is an explosive combination. If this goes off it would wipe out the entire block. So I quickly run away to fill Mr. ManOwar's prescription... you know, the ONE that should be on the shelf but there's no explanation why.

I'm further away but the tension is all over the place. My pulse quickens. I feel a lump in my throat.

Mr. ManOwar can't handle her intrusion into his space. He says, "I'll be done in a moment."

Mrs. Welldone says, "I'm next in line."

Mr. ManOwar says, "You need to step back."

Mrs. Welldone steps back one step. "Does this make you happy?"

Mr. ManOwar says, "See that sign right there? That is where YOU should be standing."

Mrs. Welldone rolls her eyes. She steps back to the sign. Apparently she did see the sign but thought if she pushed up close to the first person in line that would make everything go faster.

She asks, "Are you happy now?"

Mr. ManOwar replies, "Yes. That is where you should have been standing to begin with."

Mrs. Welldone rolls her eyes again.

Crisis averted... all weapon systems stand down. Roll back to DEFCON 3. Recall the fighters.

And now you see the value of the sour-faced, obnoxious, pain-in-the-ass patient. You can clearly use them to fight off other sour-faced, obnoxious, pain-in-the-ass patients. That is the power and resource you can use to your advantage. Remember that, my friends.

Saturday, October 3, 2015

Odd Questions from the Populace

A guy comes in, says his recent lab results show his iron levels are too high.

Here's the actual question he asked me:

"Sooooo... should I take some iron supplements to bring it down?"

Euthanize me.

Thursday, October 1, 2015

Noxious Fumes Raise Blood Pressure

We have an automated blood pressure unit here in the store. It's free. People use it all the time. And much like the freebies provided by government, boy do people complain when it isn't available for any period of time. "How am I going to check my blood pressure?!" a lady wailed at me when it was gone for a few months during a construction period. 

It's back now and the freebie crowd is satiated, for the moment... but I wonder what will happen when their food stamp debit cards stop working when the government goes broke....

Anyway, today three well-dressed dudes are shopping in the store. They're dressed like they're staying at the resort down the road and it's golf day. One of them is using the blood pressure machine, but one of the other two "gentlemen" is getting anxious. Perhaps he's worried about missing a tee time... who's to say?

From my vantage point in the pharmacy I can see them but they can't see me. Mr. Anxious turns around with his butt to the back of the guy getting his blood pressure measured. He bends over. I can't hear it from where I'm at, but apparently he let one rip. The guy is stuck in the cuff and can't immediately get away without hitting a rescue button to deflate the cuff. But he did manage a gesture with his free hand.

Moral of the story: Don't keep your friends waiting while you check your blood pressure.

This blog post originally aired HERE.