Friday, November 5, 2010

Nothing much new to report at the Funny Pharm, except that it can be incredibly repetitive at times, and people constantly asking over and over if their stuff is done yet can really get to a person. A few of the people who work back there with me admit to being more than a little nutty, medicated, and jaded, but damn if they're not fun to be around. We never could cut up and really socialize much on the front end like we can back here. If it's quiet at night and everything is done, with no customers waiting, everyone, RPh's included, will stand around and shoot the shit, get to know each other a little better. One of the techs, who I'll call D, was giving me a sort of personal interview the other night; was I planning to see the new HP movie coming out? What are my feelings on the Twilight series? Do I sing? Do I play role play games online? And so on. And then she asked something that kind of tickled me a bit.

"Gotta question."


"And I don't mean for you to get mad or anything, but I have to ask because I'm the kind of person that can't not ask."


"That guy you're always with . . ."

(LULZ, I knew it was gonna be this question. My intuition ROCKS!) "Yeah?"

" . . . boyfriend?"

Is it terribly wrong that I found it really amusing that she thought that? I've actually been wondering if people were thinking it. I did explain that we got to know each other on remodel and we're just friends, but I don't really think she bought into that too much. She followed up with "Oh, well ok, that's cool. I just wondered, I know I've never seen ya'll holding hands or anything . . . maybe it's a secret one?" I kind of went 'heh', but didn't really reply. I just don't wanna start more rumors for him or anything, because in all honesty, no, he's not my boyfriend. Buggering hell, I'd really like him to be, but he's not. I did realize, thinking back on it, that on that particular day, every time D saw me outside the Pharmacy, yes, I was with Pips. And a lot the day before, too. Clocking in together, walking up front together, coming back from my truck in the parking lot after lunch, so yeah, I can see why she'd reach that conclusion and I'm glad she asked me alone instead of with him standing there. D is a really awesome and sweet chickie, BTW, and it's always loads of fun to work with her.

Coulda been you . . .

A somewhat guilty pleasure of my new schedule, the constant 12-9 shifts. Pippy gets 12-9 a lot, too. Wednesday he was getting pretty irritated with things, particularly pumpkins and customers asking him for bags. I was back from break and he was trying to run away so he could get his, but I asked him if he wanted to go anywhere for lunch before he blew out the front doors in his pumpkin-induced hysteria. Oh cool, he said yes again. 4 o clock rolled around and I left the Funny Pharm to go find him, he said let him toss a few more cabbages on the shelf and change some prices, so I went to the back and waited. Had an amusing moment when the team that comes in to repair the electric scooters asked me to take one down the hallway and see how the steering was. I crashed it into the lockers, so I'm guessing the steering wasn't too reliable. It was almost ten minutes before my wonderful colleague managed to get back there; one of the senior cashiers asked him to do a carryout for two elderly women. They proceeded to walk outside with him and both went in opposite directions, unable to remember where they parked. When he asked them what they drove, after a few moments they said it was a Toyota.

"Well ok, what does it look like?" Our parking lot is really freaking huge, btw.

"A car."

(snerk) Okay, so that's not really funny since I knew he was already frustrated at that point, but if we didn't laugh here at the 'Mart, we'd cry. Or start being violent. I get the same kind of foolery in the Pharmacy. A customer will walk up and I'll greet them . . .

"Hi! What can I do for you today.?"

"I'm here to pick up my meds/a prescription/my doctor called in a script."

And then proceed to stare blankly at me. OMG no way! You're like the first person to come and tell me they were picking up meds. Seriously, I don't know you from Adam, and I'm not psychic, I need a name. The ten people in line behind you want meds too, gimmie a name, something to work with here. I'd be tempted to just grab a random bag off the rack and push it towards you if it didn't mean I'd get fired and go to prison.

We were sharing these amusing but maddening anecdotes while we walked to the truck, and ended up going to Arby's. I would pick the one place in town that had a three car wreck right in front of it, wouldn't I? There was one in the center of the intersection coming off the main highway and going into the side road, with the hood all crumpled, another one facing it that looked undamaged, and somehow . . . a third one, on the left hand side of the road smashed into a concrete pole. How you'd hit that pole going the right direction is beyond me, and we never could figure out how it ended up going against the traffic and over there in the first place, unless it was avoiding the first wreck. When the towtruck arrived and was loading that car up, the whole piece on the front fell right off. Pip made sure to get a seat right by the window on that side of the restaurant so we could gape at it the whole time; he seemed downright fascinated by it.

The odd thing is, I heard the sirens loud and clear while I was getting in the truck and didn't think anything of it. But really, what if Brenda hadn't asked Pip to do that carryout and we left when we'd planned on instead of being a few minutes late? That might have been my poor, beautiful little Dakota all smashed up in the middle of the highway and me and Pip standing there miserable, talking to police and witnesses and giving insurance information. Or worse. It definitely would have ruined my day, and he said he would have absolutely had to go home early at that point, whether produce was a mess or not. But really, it could have been us. And I would have been really pissed off, to say the least. Funny how things work out sometimes. I ended up going to my last break pretty late too, and he was outside at the same time, and said he wasn't going to go back in until I got up and if we both ended up sitting there and never going back to work, "Oh well. You get up first!"

Dreams and disasters

I posted on FB today that it's horrible to have an absolutely wonderful dream only to wake up and realize it didn't happen. I had just such a dream last night. For some reason Pippy was relaxing on something so I laid beside him and hugged him and he was being all snuggly and crap. Then we were watching some kind of sporting event in a huge stand with bleachers, holding hands and junk. I probably have myself to blame for clinging to him at the time clock the other night; I keep remembering how nice it felt to hang onto his arm ><>

Sometimes I can't help but dwell on the unfairness of life. A girl I used to know from my church days is a single Mom. She divorced her husband and several months later had a drunken one night stand with an acquaintance, resulting in her daughter. The father wanted an abortion but she made him sign away his rights instead, and kept the baby. Nothing wrong with that at all but damn, she screwed up her life. Yet her family and church members treated her like a saint because she had produced the almighty and sacred baybee. Now she's all over FB going on about how she's engaged to her boyfriend, also a single parent, and how she has wonderful stepkids to be and they're sooo happy and shit. It pisses me off. People who fuck up their lives and know better get all this good stuff going for them, people support them and hand them whatever they might need . . . and people like me are stuck spinning their wheels wondering if I make my friend feel the same way he does to me. With only a handful of good friends and no 'church' support from anyone because I haven't married and/or bred.

Then there are wrecks like my, well, she's not my friend. But there's a girl we've known for years who married the lowest form of trailer trash in my entire neighborhood, even after he'd hit her before they were even married. They bred three times, because she's too stupid to use birth control, and don't get me wrong, their daughters are beautiful, smart little girls. The oldest one might be a little messed up though, because Mommy let Daddy babysit while she was at work at Daddy got horny. Yeah, I don't need to elaborate. Their oldest daughter got a yeast infection from him. They divorced last week and he's not allowed within 1000 feet of her or the kids. The real prize here, is that this fool is 7 months pregnant now. The Daddy is an illegal alien from Mexico with no green card and no job, and a kyd from another relationship. And this stupid bitch is THRILLED, because it's a boy this time. "Haha, I keep saying I finally got a boy because I got a REAL man to put one there, haha!" Oh wow, he can shoot sperm and one of them was a boy, that's not any easy feat. It's not like animals and humans alike have been doing it for centuries. Her kids are wardens of the state and her parents have been taking care of them. Her Mom works at the 'Mart and is the most devastated, stressed out person I think I know right now. And her stupid daughter is now saying she's gonna marry the alien and have him adopt the three daughters. My Mom flat out told her she had no business marrying this guy and the girl got all offended. I mean really, she's extremely proud of all of this, and says her third daughter has eyes 'just like that ugly man, haha'. WTF there aren't enough swear words in all the languages in the world to say what I'd like to. I hope the state awards her parents custody of the three girls and they sever ties with her for good. Those kids deserve better. This stupid bitch has ruined her daughters' lives, is making her parents lives hell, and she's just as happy as a pig in mud.

Yet I have a fairly decent job, great coworkers and managers, a family who is pretty supportive of me and lets me live here for free, but I'm miserable and uncertain because I want nothing more than to put my arms around Pip and feel how warm he is, to kiss him and let him know that people really do care about him, that my shoulder is there if ever he should need it. It kind of makes me feel a bit juvenile, but in the end, I have to come to the conclusion that I may be the more fortunate one when compared to my acquaintances of epic failure.

No comments:

Post a Comment