Today's story is about a pill cutter.
The discerning intern: I
Old lady who really needs her money back: C
I: Hi, how's it going?
C: Hi, I would like these prescriptions filled. Also I would like to return this pill cutter. It doesn't work anymore.
(Intern looks at pill cutter, notices it is covered in powder, most probably served its purpose cutting pills but is past its prime.)
I: OK. What's wrong with it?
C: It doesn't open up
(Intern tries to open it, sure enough it doesn't open.)
I: When did you buy this?
C: A couple months ago. Look, I don't want to be paying for something I cannot use.
I: And was it like this when you bought it?
C: No. It was fine when I bought it. But now it's stopped working. It doesn't even last. I want my money back. They know me here.
I: Do you have your receipt with you?
C: I don't have it with me, it must be somewhere at home.
I: I don't think you can return this today then.
(Customer dismisses intern, intern dispenses medication, calls customer to collect medications.)
C: Look I think you don't have the right to tell me that I cannot return this. I'm not paying for something I cannot use. I want to speak to someone who can actually do this for me. They know me here.
I: (Sorry what?) Yea sure, do you want to speak to the pharmacist?
C: Who's the pharmacist?
I: (Points at pharmacist) She's over there, do you want to speak to her? (Though I'm pretty damn sure she won't agree.)
C: I don't know her.
I: O... K?
C: I don't know her. Who else is in today?
I: The boys work weekdays, they're not...
C: (Not even gonna let I finish) I'm coming back during the week to speak to someone I know and can do this return for me.
I: Suit yourself.
Look mate. You're being funny. Let's say this was a supermarket, you buy a carton of milk. You drink half a carton and it's abso-fucking-lutely fine. You forget to put it in the fridge and whoop-dee-do what do you know the milk goes sour. Do you take that carton of milk, go prancing back into the supermarket declaring "I want my money back I'm not paying for something I can't drink!" Well I'm bloody fucking sure you don't. I don't know how to feel now, uncontrollable hysteria or murderous rage. And to think that people like you exist and can potentially reproduce and have offspring, and then populate the world with descendants who inherit your rock bottom IQ is frankly bloody discomforting.
Rant over. Bye.
