Today I went to Walmart to pick up a prescription that I had previously called in. May I clarify that I only went to Walmart to fill it because it was previously filled at a Walmart in Florida. Because we've moved states, I've changed my name, and gotten new insurance I figured it would be easiest not to switch pharmacies at the same time.
After parking what seemed like a mile away from the store, I made it inside. I had in my hand my temporary prescription coverage card, just a single piece of paper. The greeter confronts me and asks to see "my return". I tell him that I don't have a return and he gestures to the piece of paper in my hand.
"It's a piece of paper", I say.
"Oh, so it's not a return?", he responds.
"Um no. But I could see how you could mistake it for a desk lamp or a broken aquarium." (Actually I was nice and answered "no" while giving him my best smile)
So I make it to the Pharmacy Department. I choose from one of 6 lines, the one labeled "pick up" seems appropriate. I'm behind 4 people. I wait 13 minutes. I approach the counter where "Quinta'sha" is going to help me. I tell her my last name and hand her my temporary prescription card. Quinta-sha tells me that if I want to add my new insurance that I'll have to go to the other line. Great.
Which line? There are 5. Consultations, Drop Offs, Special Needs, or the other Pick Up line?!
I make my way to the Drop Off line, where I situate myself behind 3 other people. This line is moving a little more quickly than the line I was just in. Before I know it, it is my turn. I walk up to the counter and the employee promptly answers the phone and helps a man figure out how many of his 10mg Prednisone tablets he would have to take to equal 20mg. Hmmm...that's a tough one! But I realize not everyone was blessed with my parents and maybe they don't understand this, so I cut the guy on the other end of the phone some slack. Then the employee proceeds to tell him the same thing two more times.
She hangs up with the man who I pray takes the correct amount of Prednisone tonight and looks my direction. I begin to state my case-
"Hi. I need to pick up my prescription, but I need to add my new insur-".
I'm cut off.
"You're in the wrong line."
"Well actually I was in the correct line but if you let me finish, I have to apply my new insurance to this prescription."
She takes the paper from me and within a few minutes, just like magic, I have insurance! Then she does the unthinkable and tells me that I'll have to get back in the "Pick Up" line and get my prescription there. Instead of blowing a gasket, I smiled, told her thank you, and marched back to the other line...behind 5 people.
This time it was a breeze. Quinta'sha remembers my name and my birthday!! I get my prescription and happily bid her a good day.
I decided since I was already at Wal-mart, I'd pick up some "Diet Grapico". I head to the opposite side of the store and grab 2 two-liters and head towards the checkout lane. As I turn the corner between greeting cards and the main aisle of Wal-mart I hear a gruff woman yelling "You have to go around!!" I quickly identified her as an employee because of her name badge and not much else. I look around to see where she's pointing and I'm having a hard time identifying where exactly I'm supposed to go. I duck to the other side of the display featuring this week's $3 movies, but the woman cuts me off at the pass.
"I said you have to go around!" she bellows.
I still can't really tell where she wants me to go. So an older gentleman with a motorized cart and I turn around 180 degrees and go through the jewelry department, past the shoes, and out onto the other side of the store in order to checkout.
Ahhhh, finally the checkout lines. I'll just look for the speedy checkout. Oh, there it is. The one with (I'm not exagerrating here folks) 9 people in it. Seriously, the line wrapped around the display of rotisserie chicken in the middle of the store! Instead I chose a line with a middle aged man, his approximately 9 year old son (who had the longest rat-tail I've ever seen!) and their moderately full grocery cart. Things are running smoothly until he unassumingly asks the cashier for one bag of ice.
She looks though a sheet at the register that has pictures and barcodes on it. It's got everything! Lettuce, zucchini, lawn furniture, tire rotations, but NO ICE. She tells him she's going to go ask someone what the code for ice is. Again, I'm not kidding here...we watch her go to four different registers before she finally returns with the answer.
Finally it was my turn!!
"Is that all for you today?"
I swipe my card for two dollars and 8 cents and go on my merry way, thrilled to have made it out alive. Then it happens. The same straw that broke the camels back has just come into view. Remember the greeter confrontation on the way in? There he was again asking to see my receipt for my 2 two-liters of Diet Freaking Grapico. Of course I've already lost it in the twelve steps I've taken since I've received it. I tell the man that I don't understand why he wants to see it, my Grapicos are in a bag and obviously if I was gonna steal something it would be something good and I'll just leave the Grapico with him and go home.
He smiled and said, "I'll let you go this time, ma'am. But remember that for next time. Thank you for shopping at Wal-mart."
As I walked through the parking lot to my car, I swore over and over that it would be the last time. Goodbye Wal-mart. It's been