Monday, October 22, 2012

"I'm here for my Lactulose!"

Randy is nice kid.  He's 18.  He folds napkins at the local steakhouse for a few bucks.  But Randy is a little different.  He's dressed like Martin Short on SNL with his pants pulled up really high and his hair is slicked back with a lot of grease.  You'd think he's kidding, but this is how he really wants to look.  I wish I could get away with a look like that but I can't.

Randy is a little loud.  He comes up the aisle toward the pharmacy shouting his arrival.  "I'm here for my lactulose... I'm here for my lactulose...  I'M HERE FOR MY LACTULOSE!!"

Most of the time we're ready for Randy's arrival.  And there's a reason why...  if you DON'T have Randy's lactulose ready, he stands at the counter, thrusting his pelvis toward the counter and grunting.  He's not trying to be pornographic... he's actually having a panic attack.  And when that happens, it scares people and we get it ready ASAP.

As Randy leaves, he shouts his way down the aisle, "I got my lactulose! I got my lactulose!  I got my lactulose"


1 comment:

  1. Randy has an autism spectrum disorder. Like my 3 kids. The fact that he has a job is amazing. The fact that he can function in the community is awesome. I hope you appreciate how hard it is for him with all the anxiety he is coping with to do this on his own. Thank you for calling him a nice kid. I hope all 3 of my boys will someday have a job. And I hope it pays better than that one.

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