A long, long time ago in a land far, far away there was a store where I helped out. I was family so I didn't really get paid but I was compelled to work, and work, and work. I was 17. Kids are often made to work in their parents' businesses. I was no exception.
This business was a joint venture between my parents and my mother's brother. That's not really important, but my Uncle had a teenager (about a year younger than me) helping out in the store. She was paid help, however. Her name was Jane. My first interaction with Jane was... interesting:
I'm messing around in the backroom and come across a printing calculator. To those of you who are millennials and younger, these devices were new at one point and not many people had them. This calculator was a particularly nice one and used tiny thermal paper and made this delightful noise as it printed. Yeah, I guess that's a nerdy thing and most people won't understand that, but in the land where the Apple ][ and the TRS-80 where the height of technology at the time any cool gadget was like gold to have and use.
Anyway, back to the printing. I'm having some fun adding numbers and listening to the cool sound as the calculator heated up the paper and spit out the results.
But then, out of nowhere, Jane comes running into the backroom, yanks the calculator away from me and yells, "YOU'RE DOING THAT JUST TO BOTHER ME!" and slams it down on the counter.
"Oooooookay," I said, stunned at her accusation and attack. I backed out of the room and left. I didn't want anything else to do with “Psycho Jane” (as my sister and I called her from then on) that day.
Oddly, my Uncle ended up marrying that girl (years later when she was older) and she's still quite bizarre. There's been many a weird story to tell about Psycho Jane over the years, but I keep my distance and my eyes peeled. You never know when this psycho will finally go off like fireworks and shoot up the place.
What does this have to do with pharmacy? Not much, except that Jane probably needed some anti-anxiety meds.