>When I woke up yesterday morning, I discovered that my nose exploded down my throat overnight. In a quest for allergy medicine, I headed over to my local pharmacy, Duane Reade. Thanks to the jerks who live in the middle of nowhere and use Sudafed as the principal ingredient in crystal meth, the pills must be kept behind the pharmacy counter. I stepped in line.
As I waited my turn, a guy in his mid-20s asked to speak to the pharmacist. Now, the pharmacist at this place happens to be a crotchety man in his early 60s who is clearly bitter that he is stuck working at Duane Reade. I think he is hilarious. He approached the guy and asked what he needed.
"Do you sell anti-dehydration pills?" the guy asked innocently.
"Yes, and they are called bottles of water. We have them up front in the refrigerated case," the pharmacist snarled in a raspy voice as he stared at the guy as though he recently arrived on Earth from Uranus.
"No," the guy stammered, "I'm looking for anti-dehydration pills." I began to wonder if this guy lived in my building.
"Listen, I've been a pharmacist for longer than you've been alive, and there is only one way to prevent dehydration. It's called drinking fluids. I don't know who told y0ou about these non-existent pills, but suggest you try drinking more water." I think the pharmacist started snickering at this point, but I couldn't tell because I walked away quickly in an effort to not laugh in this poor fool's face myself.
I love people.