What happened to customer service?

This week's update is going to be a short one, as I've not had a lot of sleep lately, and I'm getting some medications zeroed in.  Long story... 

But this has to do with said long story. 

Is customer service a thing of the past? 

There used to be a time, really, not so long ago that one could walk into a department store and be asked by some brat kid with a mohawk "can I, like, help you or something?"

Now, they're just creepy looking

Now, you're lucky to even have a cashier at the grocery store.  I know this is a reach for the spirit of this blog, but it's my blog and dammit, I'm gonna reach around until I find something manly in here...

My story begins at the Rite Aid down the street from me and my mission to refill my Class B drug of choice: Adderol.  This is a very taboo drug in Los Angeles.  Everyone is on it, but no one really needs it.  We're all really ADD but it's because work is boring when it's beautiful outside and we're surrounded by ridiculously good-looking women all the time.

Ridiculously good-looking

But my journey into normalcy created by said Class B drug has had a lot of speedbumps along the way.  First...the pharmacies are on to all you doctor shoppers.  No one in the greater LA area carries Adderol's generic.  They carry the brand name and the Extended Release, which is close to $200 a month for 15mg without insurance.  Thank God for USC's anal insistence that students carry health insurance, else I'd have to take out some student loans to pay for all these obscenely high costs...

Maybe they should require college insurance.  Because man, if I could get away with just a co-pay for this 6-figure education...awesome...

I'm stuck on money... I need a positive USC distraction...

That's better

So, it turns out the only place within helicopter distance to my pad in the Valley that carries my particular prescription, dosage, and amount was the Walgreens in Tarzana.  Yes.  Tarzana.  The town named after the jungle man that happens to be situated in the desert.  Fair enough.  But this whole idea of driving (or riding) 15 minutes up the road to drop off my script, then wait the obligatory 20 minutes that inevitably equals out to 40 minutes worth of roaming the aisles, then the 15 minute ride back seems a bit silly when I have a Rite Aid 45 seconds from my pad. 

So I finally took the plunge and dropped off my script with what has to be the most inept bunch of medical folk I've encountered.  By law, one of them is supposed to have a Ph.D., right?  I can't imagine which online college the lady in charge graduated from, but my guess is it was an off-brand DeVry.

Study to be a doctor, a lawyer, and a basket weaver

I was under the impression that Rite Aid was world renowned for their customer service, answering prescription questions, and helping people escape the clutches of the automated blood-pressure machine.  But this place is different.  I immediately got the stink-eye for handing them my valid prescription. 

"Let's see:

Student?  Check.

Motorcycle?  Check. 

Cheap haircut? Check.

This guy's gotta be a pusher."

I know that's the inner monologue bouncing around in her melon.  "This guy's gonna cash in selling little blue pills to his classmates at $5 a pop.  I bet he's staying in school with the sole purpose of banking the possible $700+ a month this particular prescription could be worth."

Never mind my schooling is costing me $40k a year, my potential income as a screenwriter is somewhere between nothing a year and a few million a year, depending on how awesome I am...and if I have access to the medication that's gonna keep me thinking about words on paper instead of wandering from shiny thing to shiny thing.

Or shiny things...plural

 So, here I am, in my head, defending my need for a doctor prescribed medication to the pharmacist.  When I'm not in the mood for it, I don't deal well wih confrontation.  I tend to get walked all over. 

Maybe that's the man thing I need for this blog to be relavent.  Real men stand up for what's right, no matter how hard it is, or how uncomfortable you may end up feeling For instance...check out my facebook debate with Rebekah about gay marriage. 

Ha, I knew I'd find something if I reached around long enough.

Anyway, so it turns out, that they're going to fill the script.  So I ask a general, no harm question.

"Since I'll be a returning customer with a particular prescription need, will you keep this medication in stock, from now on, so that when I have to come in and get a refill, I don't have to wait 2-3 days?"

"No, we need a prescription."

"But you have one... in your hand."

"We don't carry medications without prescriptions..."

... I tried to fish for a smart ass response, but she literally turned and walked away.  Literally. LITERALLY. No thank you.  No I'm sorry.  No nothing.  Just walked away. 

I'd be inclined to believe her, since she is a Ph.D.  But there are (again) literally hundreds of bottles medications sitting on the shelves in my eyeline.  I know they carry the non-generic Adderol in smaller amounts.  Why would it be that difficult to carry my prescription? 

I wouldn't get an aswer, because she literally walked away.  This Rite Aid's customer service is balls.

That's right.   End on a high note.