Just found this subreddit, so let me say hi with a bit of a bang:

I'd only been at my corner pharmacy for a couple months when this customer comes in. He's one of our regulars, a nice man in his young 60s (I'll refer to him as RC), but today he isn't picking up any medication.

Almost proudly, RC drops a pack of Trojan Ultra-Ribbed Ecstasys and a box of K-Y Intense on the counter, and I start ringing him up. RC looks across the counter to see who else is working today, glances around to see if anyone else is on line, and then leans in a bit. "Can I ask you a question? Man to man?"

My stupid retail brain has pushed out a response before I can process it. "Of course! What's your question?"

RC leans in even more, and leads with, "I had surgery on my penis a little while ago."

*record scratch*

What I was hoping for was a question about his prescriptions. What I was expecting was a question about condoms. I could almost feel the rug getting pulled out from under me. It took me a second to process it, but finally I realize: 'Surgery. Great. Medical question. I can pass him off to the pharmacist.' My poor, unsuspecting pharmacist.

RC hasn't stopped talking, or apparently taken any note of how uncomfortable and confused I am by this line of conversation, and he continues, "The doctor said that the stitches would dissolve in three weeks and it's been almost a month, do you think it's safe for me to have sex?"

And before I've even had the chance to open my mouth to tell RC to talk to my pharmacist, he's already taken a breath and starts plowing on. I weakly tried to cut him off, but no dice.

"I have a date with a really beautiful lady tonight, we've been friends for a while and I really don't want tonight to go to waste. Do you think the condoms will be okay? Should I do anything special? What happens if the stitches aren't fully healed?"

Side note: I would later find out that, at some point during this very one-sided conversation, my pharmacist had walked over to see what we were talking about, overheard the magic word "~condom~" and promptly turned around and nope'd the fuck out of there.

Finally, RC stops to breathe and I find a chance to get a word in, and manage to say, "This isn't something that I can really offer any help with. I would recommend calling your doctor or the surgeon's office at the very least and talk to them, but-"

RC cuts me off. "The surgeon is on vacation, but it's been longer than he said to wait, so that should mean I'm fine, right?" He goes on to repeat and emphasize that this girl is very pretty and he's wanted to date her for a long time now, and the condoms and lube really should be enough to make things go smoothly for him, right?

I reiterate that he should call his doctor or surgeon to get the best answer, but if he wants, I could bring him over to talk to my pharma...cist... who is... um? I know she was there just a minute ago. Standing there at the register, looking around the eerily empty pharmacy, I'd never felt more alone. There was no escape.

Maybe sensing that I couldn't help him, or just not wanting to talk to a woman about this issue of his, RC shakes his head and pulls out his credit card, and I rang him out about as fast as humanly possible. Mercifully, even the stereotypically mile-long receipt was only a few hundred feet long this time, and I stuffed everything into a bag for him and left him with a "Have a good night!" that he returned with a grin, a nod, and an "I'll try."

My pharmacist reappears as RC disappears, raising an eyebrow and looking at me very seriously and saying something. I'm still just trying to process what just happened, barely registering that she said anything, and wondering why she looks like an upset parent. She asks, in her best I'm-not-mad-just-disappointed voice, "Were you just giving RC medical advice?"

I laughed.