the prideful brute

Reads: 110  | Likes: 1  | Shelves: 0  | Comments: 1

  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Reddit
  • Pinterest
  • Invite

Status: Finished  |  Genre: Non-Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic


Shrill banshee and the prideful brute

Working in a pharmacy. A customer approached me and perfectly described to me the symptoms of bacterial conjunctivitis. I said, "yep. You need chorsig. Eyedrops or ointment?" "Eyedrops." So I fetched them. Then I addressed the pharmacist because as an intern I'm apparently retarded and need to ask permission to provide any schedule 3 product. So I asked like the subservient cretin I am and he responds with "what colour is the discharge?" Might I point out what a dumb question this is for a pharmacist to ask, being that I'd already told him the patient's eyes are virtually glued shut by sticky, mucous shit. But it'd been a long day so I just went with it. I asked the customer."Yellow-green". OK. I tell pharmacist. "Yep that's fine," he said, authoritatively. Yes thank you so much for your grand words of wisdom, cunt. Go back to the bitch (whom at this point was actually quite pleasant), rolled out the directions of use and started to explain. I noticed it said "only to be used in those aged 2 or over" and asked her, reluctantly, how old her kid was. "Almost 2," she says. "fuck" I think to myself. At this point there were many people watching - it was very busy. I didn't really feel embarrassed because I was in a good mood and I'd done a pretty good job so far. 

I started to mumble some shit about how "we can only legally sell Chlorsig to patients aged 2 years or older". I pleadingly explained that the only way we could provide Chlorsig is if she had it recommended by a doctor. She seemed to be agreeing with me and was in a good mood. OK then. I went, smiling, to put it back on the shelf and heard behind me "so you're not going to give me anything now?" Oh shit. I started to talk to her again but she was inconsolably screeching at this point. "WHAT IF IT'S FOR MYSELF THEN? WILL YOU GIVE IT TO ME!?" I say "I'll get the pharmacist." For the final time I approached the pharmacist and said "she's saying it's for herself now. Do you want to handle it?" as I handed him the Chlorsig. He approached the wailing banshee and said "it's for yourself?" "YES!!!" "OK" and simply handed it over. He started to sulk, his pride wounded.

Meanwhile I was pretty pissed off myself. Out of spite, I was acting brazenly insolent but trying not to show it. I was just reading Wikipedia for a while. But suddenly the non-confrontational blockhead couldn't take the anguish of his deflated pride any longer. The pig headed brute strutted over to me and with folded arms demanded my attention. In a tone that for him approached yelling, he launched into a tirade about how I should have asked the age of the patient first and blah blah blah blah blah. I stood there and took it even though I knew I'd tried my hardest and the only thing wrong with the situation was his incompetence and disproportionately boosted pride. At one point I looked off to the side out of spite (couldn't hold it in but my mood must have been apparent by my expression anyway) and he promptly tapped my shoulder, once more demanding my attention as he continued to reprimand me. He ended by imposing a punitive measure, a supposedly suitable punishment for my wrongdoing: I must revise all three types of conjunctivitis, the symptoms for each and treatments and counselling points and present them to him. So I did. Even though I already knew all of it. I left work in slightly better spirits, having exchanged false niceties. And after having typed it out I feel a lot better. The end.

 


Submitted: March 08, 2021

© Copyright 2022 olive tree. All rights reserved.

  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Reddit
  • Pinterest
  • Invite

Add Your Comments:

Comments

CreativeMarauder

Worked in a call center for roadside assistance, shared a floor with with customer service for some insurance company that catered to the elderly.

Heard lots of horror story of people accusing the people that manned the phones murderers because they needed their pain medication right this second.

Customer service is a bit of a joke. You have no agency and making the customers happy is a secondary goal... It's more about making the customer take the long dong of policy with minimal fuss.

Wed, January 12th, 2022 10:53am

Author
Reply

The flourescent lights, man... horror story for sure. I have a few other stories about working in pharmacies and the garish nature of that situation. Makes me feel like dry heaving and flinching at the same time.

Wed, January 12th, 2022 2:56am

Facebook Comments

More Non-Fiction Short Stories

Other Content by olive tree

Short Story / Non-Fiction

Short Story / Romance

Short Story / Religion and Spirituality