No one wants to work at the Pick Up counter at my store, and I get it. It's entirely patient interactions, it can get overwhelming when there's a rush of people, and you're the first person an angry patient is going to attack - because you're the one who gets them first. But some of the best patient (and coworker) interactions I've ever had are at the Pick Up counter, specifically because it's all interacting with people.

People ask why I'm always in such good spirits at the Pick Up counter, and I tell them the truth. I'd be a horrible stand-up comedian, but I'm hilarious when you only have to deal with me for 3 minutes at a time.

Maybe pennies can be lucky

With the recent sky-high Powerball and Mega Millions jackpots, I spent my time at Pick Up refining some lottery-themed jokes and references for my spiel to the patients. When receipts printed out with lots of coupons (why yes, I do work at a corner pharmacy notorious for their long receipts), I'd go, "Jackpot! Well, maybe not the one you wanted, but there's [read off a random coupon discription] here!". If people gave me their birthday before being prompted, I'd say, "Ooh, those sound like lucky numbers! I might have to play them after work!"

And when I was giving people their change, I'd always be sure to single out the pennies. "$3.77 is your change, that gives you two whole lucky pennies!" Of course, some people will refuse their change, especially if it's only a couple pennies - so I grabbed an amber vial from our bin, put all the pennies people refused in it, and labeled it "Lucky Pennies". It was a great little conversation starter when people saw it, and if they inquired I was always happy to give them a little bit of our luck.

One of our regulars came in on that Sunday after the Mega Millions jackpot crossed the $1,000,000,000 mark (boy it feels weird typing out that many zeroes), and since it was slow, we chatted a bit about our respective chances. At some point he saw our vial of lucky pennies and, somewhat jokingly, asked if he could buy our luck. We counted it out, and out of a whopping $0.34 in pennies our regular ended up trading me a quarter and a nickel, leaving us 4 "lucky pennies" and 2 other dubiously lucky coins.

After the patient left, my pharmacist and I shared a laugh, shook our heads... and I promptly spilled a vial of 180 Metformin 500 mg that I'd been counting. A little while later, we got a phone call that a customer had called corporate complaining that she'd been given the wrong medicine with her order. And to top off the day, the food we'd had delivered was wrong and we had to wait an extra hour for the correct food to come.

After that, we decided that the lucky pennies were no longer for sale.

Do as I say, not as I do

It's always important to give parents a bit of a demonstration on how to give their kids some of their liquid medications - especially suspensions like ibuprofen, or antibiotics. It's usually the pharmacist giving the demonstration, along with the instructions, but occasionally if a customer only speaks Spanish, or Haitian Creole, a bilingual tech will give the directions while the pharmacist demonstrates. Like a safety demonstration on an airplane.

This is the scenario one day when my pharmacist walks up to the consultation counter with a freshly-reconstituted antibiotic suspension. As the tech, speaking Spanish, explains to shake the bottle before opening it, the pharmacist demonstrates by shaking the bottle, losing her grip on it, fumbling it for a few seconds, and dropping it on the floor. The tech continues coolly, as if nothing about this was abnormal, and the patient cracks up laughing - a genuine, hearty belly laugh. After the patient leaves, the tech explains why:

"So I was telling him to shake it when you dropped the bottle, and I told him that that was one way to do it, but you should probably stick to holding it in your hands."

Probably don't do as I say, either

In a similar scenario to what was happening in the last story, my pharmacist hands off a reconstituted antibiotic to me.

Me: Do you have any specific directions for how to take this one?

RPh: Yes.

Me: Okay. What are they?

RPh: Are you ready?

Me: Yeah, go ahead.

RPh: Okay. *starts shaking her hips* First you do a dance.

Me: Okay, dance. Then?

RPh: Then you spin around. *she spins around*

Me: Okay, first dance, then spin.

RPh: And then you shake the bottle and stand on your head.

Me: Do you shake the bottle while standing on your head?

RPh: No, shake the bottle first and then stand on your head.

Me: Okay, then you give the medicine while standing on your head?

RPh: Yes.

Me: Got it.

Apparently, we were talking loud enough for the patient - waiting at the consultation counter - to hear. He chimes in with a question of his own:

Patient: Can I spin and dance at the same time, or can I not do that together?

I continue to wonder why our patients trust us with their medicine.

Is this a lotion, or a so-lotion?

Occasionally, when I ask people at the Pick Up counter if they have any questions, they'll start to ask something and then stop themselves. I'll usually press them to ask it anyway, because there's no such thing as a stupid question. In fact, I'd rather you ask a question that you may think you know the answer to, because sometimes...

A patient was picking up a whole big order of prescriptions one day, and as I'm scanning them into the register, I ask if they have any questions about anything they're picking up. They nod, reach for one of the bags, and then stop themselves and say they don't have any questions. So I push them to ask, adding that it won't take any more time while I'm going through all of my prompts.

So the patient gives in and, holding up a tube of ammonium lactate lotion, asks "Is it okay to take this, if I'm lactose intolerant?"

Call me naive, but I thought this was an entirely reasonable question. Lactate and lactose are similar enough, and maybe there is some lactose in the lotion, you never know. So I walk over to my pharmacist, ask her the question, and her eyes dart from the bag, to me, to the patient.

"Sir," she asks, gesturing for him to step over to the consultation window, "how were you planning on taking this?"

The patient walks over as I piece two and two together, and their response confirms it. "I drink it, right?"

Long story short, the answer is no, you cannot drink ammonium lactate if you're lactose intolerant. You also cannot drink ammonium lactate if you're not lactose intolerant.

The Pharmacy Game Show

I'm told, occasionally, that I have a voice for radio. Or a personality that would work for television. I've also been told that I'm useless and hopeless, so it all balances out in the end, but apparently people think I've got a pleasant voice and demeanor.

It's one of those days when the tech that was supposed to close with me calls out, the phones are going crazy, and the rush hour line is all the way down the aisle to the other side of the store. One of my semi-regulars is next on line, and she's one who always tells me I sound like a game show host. So I run with it. "Ms. [Polite Patient], come on down! You're the next contestant on 'What Do I Have To Pick Up Today'!" The patient laughs as she comes up to the counter, exclaiming, "See! I told you you'd make a good game show host!", and I can see that the interaction has put smiles on a couple more faces at and around the pharmacy counter. So let's see how far we can take this.

Next patient on line gets the same greeting, and as I pull them up in the system I let them know they have one prescription waiting, to which they respond without hesitation, "What is... atorvastatin?" Why, that's correct! The next patient on my little game show was the first to hear that they had a "Grand Prize Total today of... $0.00!" A couple patients later, I don't have anything ready for them, so I have them step over to my 'fantastic assistant (pharmacist)' who can get them all figured out.

All is going well, and most of the people coming up to the register are smiling about it at the very least, even if they don't want to play along. Of course that can't last forever, and eventually a grumpy contestant comes up to the counter. I ask for her name, and she gives me a very long - and very Greek - last name. And I might be good with most languages, but Greek names absolutely stump me.

So, dumbly, but keeping with my game show theme, I give her a blank look and ask, "Can I buy a vowel?" Before the words were even out of my mouth, I regretted every decision I'd made that led me to this point in my life, but to my immense relief I was rewarded with a smile and a laugh, and the patient spelled her name for me.

By the time the line was cleared, I'd exhausted most of my easy Jeopardy, Price is Right, Wheel of Fortune, and Let's Make a Deal references, and I was starting to dip into the deep end with Card Sharks and Whammy references that... well, let's just say they weren't landing quite as well. But it was fun! And still to this day, the pharmacist I worked with that night refers to the waiting bins as my "Prize Wall".