My 'scrip' is faxed to Wal-Mart from a city twenty miles away. By the time I arrive and wait in a ten minute line, they say they don't have it.
No, hell no, I insist. You MUST have it. Go check.
She meanders away, out of sight behind the big row of posts that block all views. Five minutes later, she returns. They found it, but they can't read it.
Simple, say I. It's Clonazepam, 10 milligrams, 50 count, from Dr. So-and-so at so-and-so address.
"We have to call the doctor." she deadpans.
"Well, is that what you're doing?" I ask. "Do you have a Blue Tooth hidden under that hair do?"
And now she's pissed. "No, I don't. I just wanted to tell you so you wouldn't wonder what I'm doing."
Well see, the thing is, I counted very carefully. There are nine goddamn people crammed into that tiny little space, and all of them are busy doing something — grabbing bags, counting pills, flipping through cards, rummaging through a computer database that is both bloated and useless. And the thing is, I'm wondering what ALL of them are doing. And why it's taking so fucking long for me to get 50 stupid pills?
Even once they clear things up with the doctor, I still have to wait a half an hour. A HALF A FUCKING HOUR! For what?
1. Find pills.
2. Find bottle.
3. Pour onto tray.
4. Count 50, dumping 5 at a time into bottle.
5. Slap on label.
6. Put in bag.
7. Ring me up.
That's half an hour? For every single person in a twelve-person line?
And it's not just Wal-Mart. CVS is just as bad or worse. So is Revco. What gives? Is there some fundamental principle so opaque that only two years of pharmaceutical schooling will cause one to undersand? Are they that inefficient? Or am I too demanding?