Monday, July 9, 2018

Magic Mike wants his Lovastatin

7pm at the end of a busy pharmacy day:

Ring... ring...

I answer the phone. It's Magic Mike.

"Hell-low, Crazy, dis issss Mike. The doh-ktor called in my Luvastatin today. When can I come get it?"

"Hello Mike. We don't have anything here. They must not have called it in yet."

That, by the way, is something me and the techs say about ten times every day.

Mike instantly turns angry, accusing me of not bothering to look, inferring that I was lying to him about his medication not being there for him.

I don't do well with accusations directed at my integrity. I tell Mike that I've been here all day and that I know for a fact that there is not any Lovastatin here for him.

Mike hangs up.

Someone euthanize me. Your lawyer can use my blog posts for your defense. No jury will convict you after seeing the bullcrap I've had to deal with. They will all nod in agreement and give you a medal.

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