Thursday, September 11, 2008

I don't know about you, but I find it awfully off-putting when my pharmacist yells across the parking lot at me to inquire how my medication was "working out."

I swear to God, this actually happened.

The pharmacist in question is a very nice man. He actually kind of looks like Norm from This Old House and Old Yankee Workshop. Remember that guy?

Well, father always taught me to measure twice, cut once.

So I'm walking out of CVS having bought plastic spoons or something else equally mundane. I unlock my car door, put one foot in the car, and hear from further down the parking lot, "Miss. Riley! How is that medication working out?"

I'll give him points for 1) remembering my name and 2) remembering that we had had a conversation about my new med. But, the relationship with your pharmacist is a weird one. Basically, he knows everything that happens with your body. But you don't have the same kind of face-time and chit chat that you get with your doctor. This guy knows nothing about me except what meds I'm on, so talking to him outside the store is like seeing your teacher away from school. It's just weird.

Now, I'm not saying what he did was unprofessional. I mean, he was just checking up on me, asking me how things were going in pharmacy-speak. But it just so jarring running into him that way, and talking about something like medicine without the pharmacy counter between us. Not that we had an actual conversation. I believe I said "Great, thanks!" And then drove off.

I guess I just like boundaries.

Oh, and also. Cruise countdown: 3 days!

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