The *Angriest* Pharmacist You want your prescription filled when? Eat shit…

What’s Eating TheAngriestPharmacist?

I find myself working at a TON of different stores. That is the life I live. Former manager now floating. But as I hinted to, it works for me right now. I can make changes, get days off, and I have absolutely no responsibility beyond that of a fill-in pharmacist. I don't worry about staffing, ordering, advertising, problems....nothing. Hell, I don't worry about tomorrow. It's great! Until my company finds a way to fuck me over with ridiculous consistency...

Last week I was off on Tuesday. On Wednesday, I planned on working a FULL 10-hour day at certain store. I showed up at that store, and just as I was setting up shop, another pharmacist walked in on me. I assumed, of course, that he was the schmuck or that we were double-booked. Wrong. The day before -- my day off, mind you -- these motherfuckers sent out a new schedule at noon. The changed a shift 19 hours prior to its beginning on a schedule that had been set for more than two weeks. How do I know it was set for more than two weeks? Because I had the GAUL to schedule an appointment with the nearby Chevy dealer to have my oil changed, recall maintenance performed on my Suburban, and tires rotated. So, after having dropped my car off at the dealer and walked to the pharmacy, I had to RUN back to the dealer (cause the other dickhead pharmacist refused to give me a ride). Luckily, I caught them before they had anything taken off or apart. My appointment was scheduled two weeks prior -- I checked with them.

So, as I drove my un-maintenanced Suburban to the store I fumed. I was pissed. I'm stilled pissed. I was planning on working a long day. The other guy was planning on being off completely. WHY IN THE FUCK DID *I* HAVE TO MOVE? Why didn't they send him there? I bit my tongue though -- giving the benefit of the doubt to what I now know is a heartless corporation of uncaring, thoughtless jerks.

Flash forward to today. I'm on day three of a four-day weekend (Saturday to Tuesday). My phone rings, and it's the P.I.C. from the store furthest from my house -- almost an hour and a half away. She is calling to confirm me for my shift for tomorrow (Tuesday) evening. For the second week in a row, they have found a way to fuck me over without losing a wink of sleep. Did they move my day off later in the week? Well hell no. I work until next Tuesday...straight...through the weekend...

I bite my tongue no longer. I called the person in charge of scheduling today...furious. The conversation last less than a minute and reminded me how much I hate everyone that is not me. It is a lost art to have a furious man end a phone call with you feeling like he bothered you by calling and owes you an apology. That hoe-bag. That cunt-stick. That sperm burping whore.

After explaining what happened two weeks in a row, I asked why the schedule was changed so often. It, of course, was not her doing. That's right. The person in charge of setting the schedule for all 50 something stores in the area was, apparently, telling me that some mystical person was sneaking in to her office overnight, changing the schedule to fuck me (and only me) over, logging in to her email account (still overnight mind you), and sending it out to everyone at NOON the next day.

As a follow up to that, I expected her to blame our district manager -- who is like every DM in the country -- a nice guy to your face, a douchebag in general, and a backstabber at every turn. She must really be paid well for such allegiance. Her response was unexpected. She didn't say a gosh darn thing. Silence. I did the same. It was silent so long that it became uncomfortable. Finally, after I'd bet 25 seconds I said, "Hello?" Silence. "Hello?" Silence. I became pissed. More pissed than I was when I initially called to bitch...Then I did something stupid.

"Oh no this dumb bitch did NOT just hang up on me."

"I'm here...................My phone crackled.....and there was silence"

I went on to ask to be placed at a store permanently so that I could avoid either what is childish bullshit or complete ineptitude. We'll see what ends up happening...I'll of course keep you updated of the outcome of the situation.

I’m new HERE….

Maybe you caught it in my last post -- I have a new job. In the area I moved to, pharmacist jobs are hard to come by right now. The "shortage" does NOT exist here. While I was offered a permanent store, I decided to stick to floating for the time being. I enjoy the different venues. I enjoy the different faces (when I get to work with someone -- I'm usually by myself without even a tech). I get to use the same stories and jokes for weeks on end. I also like the fact I can trade my shifts so easily to get off for whatever reason I want to invent.

I've run in to some problems recently. They are mostly related to the staff pharmacists and the various locations treating me like, well, crap. As if I am a lower caste of pharmacist because I'm a floater, I get talked down to, dressed down, and my personal favorite, left an occasional passive aggressive note. While I am still young in "pharmacist-years," I'm not new to the game. I'm just new HERE. I've got years of experience, and the job I am currently doing is because of personal preference. [And I don't think it will last long because the hectic shit schedule is wearing on me and those 'conveniences' aren't quite balancing it out.]

Recently, I found myself at the pharmacy ran by the official queen of the harpies, the evil bitch of the midwest. For the purpose of this anecdote, let's say I worked there on a Monday and Wednesday, while Ms. Dicknipples covered the Tuesday. On Monday, I ordered something which must have came in on Tuesday. Well, apparently, I ordered it the wrong way. Wednesday morning I arrived at the store to find the afforementioned passive aggressive note, "Attention floaters -- do not order anything without checking with technician / permanent staff first."

Now, this isn't a power rant of superiority over technician staff. Hell, this isn't even an assertion that I did something wrong. I probably did. What pisses me off more than anything is that what-her-bitch didn't have the balls or leadership ability to call me and tell me what item I ordered incorrectly and how to do it correctly in the future. Nor, did she take the time to even tell the "technician / permanent staff" what I ordered wrong -- upon review, they couldn't identify it or remember any issues with customer satisfaction.

Being the bigger person, that I have proven myself to be time and time again on this website, I took the note down, tore it in half, and threw it away in the toilet where she could see it first thing the next morning. Assuming this would at least spur a call to my supervisor -- knowing she still wouldn't have the depth of character to call me and ask why I urinated on her note -- was a ridiculous notion. So, Friday afternoon, what do I come in to? A note taped to the counter. We were swapping out, so I finally approached her. We all know how the conversation went. You didn't find this website by accident. You know why you came here. The Angriest Pharmacist, while trying to grow up and mature in some facets of his life, had a touch of his old persona come back to life.

Let's just say, next time she won't leave a note when someone messes something up. Next time, she'll be an adult and say something. Then, when we find out that no mistake was made, and that she is actually part retard, she won't be so pissed off (and the notes won't get pissed on)...