Lunch Lady Action Figure!

I've already ordered one. It's on the way now. THE LUNCH LADY!

Fans of Adam Sandler and Chris Farley will remember his tribute to the Lunch Lady in this video.

What really sold me was one Amazon review:

Stick with me as I go through this review because there are some things you might have missed in the product description and details.

First, some clues that you should buy this:

1. You went to grade school and loved or hated the lunches.

2. Just looking at her makes you remember the canned spinach or asparagus they served, along with the texture and smell.

3. She looks like a lunch lady from your school.

4. She appeals to you on some subconscious level and you need to explore that further. Go with it.

5. You KNOW she has to be a collector's item. Trust that feeling.

Now, features you might have missed:

1. You can customize the food by putting different stickers in the three serving containers. Wow! I prefer the spinach colored one and then a macaroni and cheeey one......and I'll let you guess about the third one. Why take away all suspense?

2. She is an action figure. Parts of her move.

3. The package info is funny. You'll have to trust me on that one.

4. She'd make a great gift for any lunch lady YOU know and love - or any child you want to traumatize. I don't really encourage people to traumatize children, just a little humor there. Parents will understand and, hopefully, anyone who has been around children and occasionally feel the urge to throttle them...but only in their imaginations, not in reality.

"You're a real jerk, man!"

That's what he said to me. And he yelled it.
 

I was at another pharmacy, working overtime. This guy comes up and asks for his prescription.  I go to the will-call area. Nothing is there. I ask him for his name. He rolls his eyes. He spells it for me. I type it in the computer. Nothing comes up. I ask him again. He repeats it back to me, louder this time. Obviously I'm the idiot so let's speak up. I ask for his birth date. I put it in the computer. There is only one patient in the computer with that birth date, and it is not him, unless he is actually a she and she is cross-dressing. 

I tell him that I can't find him in the database. He's getting visibly angry. I said, "This isn't my normal pharmacy, but I can't find you in the system. Is it possible that you go to another pharmacy to get your medications? There is a pharmacy right next door..." (There are three other pharmacies within 1/4 mile of this location). He cuts me off... "Listen up, Mister..." he says... "I've been getting prescriptions here at THIS pharmacy for TWELVE YEARS." Now I take people at their word and figure I must be doing something wrong, so I go back to the computer and I try his name, his phone number, date of birth again...  nothing is coming up. I cringe as I tell him again that he just isn't in the computer.

He yells, "You're a real jerk, man!" and storms off. I'm shocked and want to... you know, slam a hammer into his skull, but you can't just do stuff like that anymore, so I compose myself. A little later I'm still trying to figure out what happened. Just to satisfy my curiosity I call the competitor next door. Sure enough, he's in their database and has a prescription ready to pick up. I ask more questions, and the pharmacist there tells me that yes, this man has been doing business with them for a long, long time. 

So after awhile when it slows down, I pick up the phone and call the guy using the phone number he gave me earlier. He answers the phone and I tell him who I am, that he mistakenly came to our pharmacy, and that his medication is at the pharmacy next door. Do you think he apologized? No, he didn't. And somehow I'll bet he still thinks I'm the jerk. But I'm not a jerk. I'm just crazy for working retail.

Elmers Glue and Duct Tape

"Do you have any Elmer's Glue?" she asked.

A lady, mid twenties, is at my IN window. I tell her we have Elmer's Glue on aisle 10 on the left.

"No, do YOU have any Elmer's Glue?"

I look in our drawer that is labeled OFFICE SUPPLIES. Everything is labeled now. It's part of our organization's new organization plan. Not one manager can tell me exactly how this increases script count, but we're dang organized. I'm also surprised the drawers themselves aren't labeled DRAWERS, just in case you didn't know what a drawer is. I have a sneaky feeling that the company plans to replace us with some real idiots in the future... ones that will have to have everything labeled because they can't figure out anything on their own. Or more likely, the company already thinks we're a bunch of idiots right now and they think we need to have everything labeled. After all, these are the same people that invented Quake-N-Zap.

Anyway, sure enough, we have some Elmer's Glue in there. Maybe some pharmacist before me used it to glue broken tablets back together, I don't know. Nothing surprises me anymore. I hand her the bottle and she dabs a little on her finger. She reaches up and without a mirror places the dab on her split left earlobe. She's done this before, I'm thinking. At some point in her life she must have had an earring ripped from her earlobe and it was split to the end. She holds the split earlobe together for three or four minutes while I just look at her, bewildered.

Then she reaches into her pocket, takes out an earring, and puts it in her ear.

"How do I look?" she asks. 

"Great." I reply. I'm older and wise to this female trap question.

"Thanks." She leaves with a smile on her face.

As she's walking away, I see that she's wearing jeans and a good portion of her jeans are taped together with duct tape, the shiny silver kind.

Just another normal day at the pharmacy.

Sunday, Funny Sunday (apology to U2)

Ham it up with the Bacon Tie!

Bacon.

I love bacon.

I'm not sure I want to wear this Bacon Tie.

But I still love bacon.

Bacon.

One Refill Left

"I'm here for my Trazodone refill."

I look in will-call. It's not there. I look on the computer. It's out of refills. 

"I'm sorry, we last filled that for you about thirty days ago. It's out of refills. Would you like me to fax..."

<abruptly cut off> "NO, I'M NOT out of refills. My bottle says I have one refill left!"

"I think you might have been looking at an old bottle. Let me look on the compu..."

<abruptly cut off> "My bottle says I have one refill remaining!"

"I see on the computer that the original prescription was written on 11/2/12 and had three refills. We filled the original quantity on 11/2 and then we will filled the first refill on..."

<abruptly cut off> "I'LL BRING DOWN THE BOTTLE AND SHOW YOU! I CAN'T BE WITHOUT MY TRAZODONE!"

<Patient storms off in a huff>

An hour later the computer sends off an automated fax to the doctor, indicating that she went home, found that the bottle said ZERO refills, and she put the number in our automated system to call the doctor. 

I wonder how much time she spent trying to figure out how I magically changed that ONE REFILL LEFT to a zero all the way down at the pharmacy. 

Emergency!

I'm checking out one of our regulars. She's a sweet lady from Kansas and is writing a check. Sweet ladies have a tendency to write checks. I don't know why. I'm talking to her about the medicine she's taking since she has some new questions.

A guy walks right past our THREE signs which say "Wait here to protect patient privacy," stands right behind my patient, and starts waving his hands like he's giving the ok for a jumbo jet to take off. I look at him, startled...

"WHERE'S THE DAIRY PRODUCTS? WHERE'S THE BUTTER?" 

He's not screaming, but he's LOUD and OBNOXIOUS and obviously didn't get the lesson in grade school about manners and waiting your turn.

I'm startled by what's happening. My first impulse was to tell him to back up to the signs and wait his turn, but I bit my lip. All I could muster out was my arm pointing in the direction he came from.

The man runs off in the other direction. You'd be surprised how often that happens.

The lady I'm helping looks up at me. She's smiling. "It's a butter emergency," she says.

I reply, "I hate it when that happens."