Have you ever noticed that no matter what time they tell you your medicine will be ready (at the pharmacy) you will still end up waiting at least fifteen minutes? I’m curious, why the hell is it that Chili’s is able to tell me exactly what time my meal will be ready for pickup – and they’re always right on time – and they’ve only been doing this guaranteed time thing for like two weeks, yet pharmacies, who have been overcharging people for medicine for almost a hundred years still can’t get my mother freaking prescription ready on time? Wow, that was a long sentence.
So I went to pick up my crotch rot cream and my bull semen suppositories from the pharmacy Monday afternoon. They asked me what time I would like to pick it up. I said, “Oh, about ninety minutes. Is that cool?” Yes sir, we’ll have it ready for you then. I showed back up a little over a hundred minutes later, and sat there waiting at the window for about five minutes before someone came to ask me what the hell I wanted. “What the hell do you want, sir?” the lady asked. “Uh, yes, my name is Brandon Spacey and I’m here to pick up the…” And she cuts me off, “Yes sir, the crotch fungus cream. Um, that’s not going to be ready until tomorrow. We had to order it from Sheboygan. Your bull semen ass rockets are ready though.” Oh. “So only half of the medicine you said would be ready in ninety minutes is actually ready then?” “I didn’t say anything like that.” Oh, my bad.
So I’m wondering why the hell then (since she said my bull semen was ready) that I had to go ahead and sit there waiting another ten minutes for them to retrieve the bag for me. This is the same complaint I have at doctor’s offices. I go in and get there fifteen minutes before my scheduled appointment time and end up sitting there until thirty minutes after the appointment time before they finally come out and get me. And when they get me, it’s only to take me in the back, weigh me, take my temperature and blood pressure, then sit me in the checkup room so I can wait another thirty minutes for the doctor to come in.
I sit there in the patient checkup room waiting for the doctor, looking at a copy of Fish & Stream or Car & Driver, bored out of my mind because he’s late. He’s behind schedule. But you know what? He always is. Isn’t this something he should compensate for? If you schedule 15-minute-appointments and you’re always 20 minutes late, uh, isn’t your math in need of a revisitation? Something needs to change. He only spent about fifteen minutes with me, so I know I didn’t put him behind. And he had to remove my gizzard. Or was it my crop? I don’t remember. Anyway, I had some major shit done! I like to take advantage of my fifteen minutes with the doctor and get everything taken care of in one fell swoop so I don’t have to come back. You know? “Hey doc, can you cut out my ingrown toenail, then cut off my hemorrhoids, then go ahead and liposuck some of the fat off the back of my thighs while I’m here? Thanks, bud.” And he usually does it all. And I never make him run over our scheduled special time together.
There’s also this factor: I usually hear my doc talking in the next room, and it never seems to take more than a few minutes. So I don’t know where he gets behind, but it always affects my time. My appointment today was at 1415. I didn’t get out of there until 1530. That’s 75 minutes! For a fifteen-minute visit! Double you tea eff! So yeah, something is screwing up somewhere. And I bet it’s some old woman in the morning. I’d like to not even think about what she’s having done. But by Elephant, stop making him late, you cobblers!