The 24-Hour Pharmacy Crew

22 Aug

The 24-hour pharmacy. It’s a bare necessity for a parent, or otherwise helpless soul who’s suffering and reaches the NyQuil adventure or antibiotic stage. And during these late-to-middle of the night outings you encounter a variety of people, but they all have one thing in common: sweatpants.


This is when the Costco sweatpants or track pants make their appearance. Some chicks even find the boldness to wear leggings, when they really shouldn’t be wearing a cotton-spandex blend at all. But this is the 24-hour pharmacy they welcome all sorts of stretchy pants.  And these are most likely accompanied by a t-shirt — a wrinkled one, or the one you were sleeping in. Either way you look pretty tore up, but this is the 24-hour pharmacy dress code. So it’s all good.

Now if this look isn’t magazine-cover worthy enough, there’s usually no make-up involved. Your under eye circles are in a desperate need of a make-over. In addition you probably need of a shower as well.  You’ve got the bed smell. But you’re in some sort of pain, you’re sick ,and you’re tired. So it’s all good.

Then comes the hair. Most guys can go right to the baseball cap and in truth most chicks should do the same. The baseball cap is a great way of hiding your bad-hair shame, so I strongly suggest you use it. I have at least ten of them, and they are part of my 24-hour pharmacy look. In fact, they make up some of my day-time looks too.

Now I wasn’t lucky enough to just need an over-the-counter cure. This is an in-and-out trip and the only delay is the cashier, which happens often when you’re in a rush. However, if you need the strong stuff — the stuff that requires the dude in the white coat and glasses to talk to you — then you have to wait in the dreaded line. And it is in this line that you meet the customers.

You have the crazy one who tries to talk to you and be your friend in line, and all you want to do is get your antibiotic and leave.

You have the customer who passes gas and pretends that it really wasn’t them as they stare at the hearing-aid batteries.

You have the irate customer who’s yelling at the cashier because their prescription isn’t ready, and after all that hostility they go off and cry near the blood-pressure machine as they send text or Facebook messages to whoever will listen to their story.

You have the customer at the front of the line waiting for their turn and making sarcastic remarks about everything in hopes of hearing “Amen to that!” from anybody behind them. But it never happens.

You have that customer, a chick with smudged Maybelline mascara, a worried look in her face, and traces of lipstick still in the cracks of her lips. She clutches her bag and waits anxiously to hear her name. She’s not in the 24-hour pharmacy dress code. She’s wearing heals, with a faint smell of perfume. But she has that bad hair — that bad I just had sex hair and I need my emergency pill. Immediately.

Then you have me … the chick in the 24-hour pharmacy dress code reading O Magazine for free, trying to ignore everyone, as she waits her turn.

This is the motley crew that hangs out between the Flintstones Vitamins and Salopans healing pads. We’re different, but only one thing other than sweatpants unites us … those words … those awesome words …

“Next please.”


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