Hard Drugs And Harder Pharmacists

(A teen approaches my cash register very slowly.) Me: “Can I help you?” Customer: “Gimme all the f***ing medicine!” (The teen pulls out an airsoft pistol with orange tip still glued to the front.) Me: “The pharmacy is in the back of the store.” Customer: “Oh…okay.” (He holsters the air-soft gun in his belt and darts down the aisles to the back of the store. My manager comes out of the back room because of the commotion.) Manager: “Who was that?” Me: “Some kid looking for drugs. He went back to the pharmacy.” Manager: “Why didn’t you call the police?” (The teen runs screaming from the back of the store out of the front door followed closely by the pharmacy technician, a 35 year old boxer built like a fridge.) Me: “Doug started working today.”

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