When I was in high school, I was a cashier at a Popeye's in a very shady part of town. It has since been regentrified, but when I worked there, it was an outdoor crack house. So often drug addicts would lock themselves in the men's room to sleep or use drugs. But them I could deal with. It was one of my co-workers, Janiesha, that I couldn't stand! She had a horrible attitude and was known to curse out managers and customers alike, so I was not surprised when she was fired because of a bad interaction with mystery shopper.
A few days after she got fired, she showed back up at the job in a loud sweater dress that cut up her butt cheeks and tried to coerce my manager, Phil, into the bathroom. I thought that she wanted to talk to him privately, but my co-workers informed me that she was probably trying to give Phil a blowjob to get her job back. I remembered wondering why it was that serious for her? Atlanta was full of low-paying, dead-end jobs that don't care if you have ever been fired.
I have to say that I felt like Janiesha as I slinked into the pharmacy to ask for some emergency blood pressure meds. The doctor at the drugstore clinic told me that she couldn't give me any meds and that I needed a primary care doctor. Duh! But then she told me that I could go to where I usually get my prescription filled and ask for some emergency pills.
"Wait, is that a thing?" I had to make sure, because it sounded like something that wasn't completely on the up and up and I needed to know if I was could possibly be risking jail time.
"Yes, but they will only give you a few pills to hold you over until your primary care doctor calls them with a real prescription."
UGH with the primary care doctor!
But I didn't have a choice. It was either there or the same ER that has killed three people that I know.
"Hi!" I said in a happy, fun, unnecessarily slutty, girl at a frat party voice to the pharmacist behind the counter at the pharmacy. He did us both a favor and pretended that I didn't sound ridiculous. The sound of my voice was making me sick. But I kept a tight smile on my face, happy that the pharmacist wasn't someone that I went to school with.
"Hello!" he said kindly. I was the first customer, showing up right as he flipped over his open sign.
"Listen, I need some emergency blood pressure medicine as I am looking for a new doctor," I said, trying to hypnotize him with my eyes, which I was once told were hypnotizing.
My heart was beating out of my chest. There was no way that he was going to give them to me. If people could just walk up and ask for free drugs then pharmacies wouldn't get robbed.
He asked me my name and date of birth, then began to type in his little computer. I kept a nervous, creepy smile on my face as he did so, then he vanished out of my view.
He's going to get security or call the police, I thought. My instincts told me to run but I couldn't. Yet again I was unable to flee the scene of a crime because of my cheap shoes.
"Damn it!" I said to myself as he reemerged with a bag with two prescription bottles in it. He handed me the small bag of meds and I immediately felt stupid for acting like such a tramp.
"How much?" I asked.
"Nothing," he said, looking over my shoulder. He was ready for the next person in line.
"Thank you," I said, slinking out of the pharmacy as pathetic as I had slinked in. I felt like such a Janiesha, but was grateful that I wasn't on my way to the ER.
Now begins my search for the primary care doctor. I'm not excited. Stay tuned.
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