Somebody Should Be Minding the Store
Everyone (and I've taken an exhaustive poll and it is everyone...really) in this area has allergy issues. Mostly, sinus stuff, but there are the "others", too. I'm not exempt. I could be. But, I fervently refuse to get rid of my down pillows. I just can't sleep on that foam rubber stuff. It's...I don't know...UNNATURAL!!
So, each morning I wake with a stuffy nose. Not a huge ordeal, I know. And, since, I know what meds will alleviate the problem, not much of an ordeal at all. I'd gladly call it NO ordeal, except for one thing.
My over-the-counter medication has become a Class A Narcotic or something. Crazed junkies have taken my beloved Sudafeds and turned them into something sordid and now, NOW, the pharmacy makes me show my license and fill out a form and take my photo and fingerprint me and all this hoopla, everytime I go to buy an...wait for it...OVER THE FUCKING COUNTER MEDICATION.
Because I'm nearly out of them, I stopped at our neighborhood grocery on the way home from work tonight. I wanted to pick up some caffeine, too, so I grabbed a 20 oz. Mountain Dew and headed to the pharmacy to get the dope. Passing, on the way, the security guard posted at the store's rear exit, which happens to be adjacent to the pharmacy.
Now, when I say the words "security guard", it will conjure up a few images. Big, burly bodyguards, or Barney Fife types perhaps. Had this security guard not been wearing a uniform, I'd have never guessed she fit the bill.
There was a familiarity about her. And then it hit me. She looked just like the chick on the right.
Except for the blue uniform and badge.
Granny Clampett on a power trip.
Frightening thought, isn't it? This woman is the only thing standing between strung out meth-heads and the Sudafeds they need.
I couldn't help but laugh thinking that diminuitive Granny Clampett couldn't stop me from taking my Sudafeds outta there without signing the book OR showing my license, if I'd really wanted to. In fact, I don't think she could have stopped my seven year old from doing it either (especially since she's got some new karate moves), let alone crazed drug addicts.
All this time, I thought the old gal was dead and there she was guarding the Sudafeds at my local grocery. Nice to know she's still getting some work. She must be a hell of a lot tougher than she looks. Or maybe, though I didn't notice it, she's keeping her shotgun handy.
So, each morning I wake with a stuffy nose. Not a huge ordeal, I know. And, since, I know what meds will alleviate the problem, not much of an ordeal at all. I'd gladly call it NO ordeal, except for one thing.
My over-the-counter medication has become a Class A Narcotic or something. Crazed junkies have taken my beloved Sudafeds and turned them into something sordid and now, NOW, the pharmacy makes me show my license and fill out a form and take my photo and fingerprint me and all this hoopla, everytime I go to buy an...wait for it...OVER THE FUCKING COUNTER MEDICATION.
Because I'm nearly out of them, I stopped at our neighborhood grocery on the way home from work tonight. I wanted to pick up some caffeine, too, so I grabbed a 20 oz. Mountain Dew and headed to the pharmacy to get the dope. Passing, on the way, the security guard posted at the store's rear exit, which happens to be adjacent to the pharmacy.
Now, when I say the words "security guard", it will conjure up a few images. Big, burly bodyguards, or Barney Fife types perhaps. Had this security guard not been wearing a uniform, I'd have never guessed she fit the bill.
There was a familiarity about her. And then it hit me. She looked just like the chick on the right. Except for the blue uniform and badge.
Granny Clampett on a power trip.
Frightening thought, isn't it? This woman is the only thing standing between strung out meth-heads and the Sudafeds they need.
I couldn't help but laugh thinking that diminuitive Granny Clampett couldn't stop me from taking my Sudafeds outta there without signing the book OR showing my license, if I'd really wanted to. In fact, I don't think she could have stopped my seven year old from doing it either (especially since she's got some new karate moves), let alone crazed drug addicts.
All this time, I thought the old gal was dead and there she was guarding the Sudafeds at my local grocery. Nice to know she's still getting some work. She must be a hell of a lot tougher than she looks. Or maybe, though I didn't notice it, she's keeping her shotgun handy.
posted by SuperWife | 6:33 PM
3 Comments:
Ha! Just last week I was intending to write a post about the same thing as I had to pick up a pseudoephedrine-bearing cold and sinus med for one of my sons. I'd taken him to the doctor because of how he was feeling and along with the antibiotic the doctor suggested the decongestant because Trav was courting an ear infection.
I'd known all of these meds had been moved behind the counter (and that Nyquil had reformulated itself into something far less effective rather than disappear behind the pharmacy counter) but it was the first time I had to buy them since the change. Having to hand over my license so some kid could enter the info, then prompted to input my signature on the electronic pad so they would have some record. Then handed a separate clipboard to sign here, print your name here, and then given a copy of that inane "Notice of Privacy Practices," a version of the forms we started getting at doctor's offices and hospitals a few Orwells ago, calling it a privacy statement while it outlines all of the things they can tell about you and who they can tell it to.
It merged with a "Your papers, please" line of thought -- how this country has shifted over the years into something that as a child I only saw in movies and tv shows: A repressive, intrusive state. Security checkpoints. Sobriety stops. The push towards a national ID card. Growing up I was given to understand that this sort of thing was what separated the U.S. from Nazi Germany, the Soviet Union, and any number of other currently or previously existing places we'd never want to live.
I'm not going to blame the crazed junkies or even the meth dealers who were previously buying the pseudoephedrine-bearing items up for their amphetamine production process. No, we are being oppressed by, and with the consent of, sheep. Sheep, and those who have long wanted to control and track every move we make. They tell us it's for our safety, though it really isn't. They shake their heads and say it's a shame that a small number of people have made this necessary... but that presumes it's necessary. It isn't.
We're being pushed into a world where privacy is a security concern, where anything undisclosed is a point of guilt. A world where anonymity is seen as the concern of criminals, not Honest Folk.
Those of us who are in the middle ground between the gray population hump of the aging, clutching, grasping, fearful, true baby boomers* and the kids who are being brought up in schools with "Post-Columbine" security procedures are being pushed along. The aged give a nod to anything if they're told it'll keep the rough, young thugs from their door, and the young are being indoctrinated into a society where they can be stopped and searched on a whim.
It's an ugly world growing uglier by the day.
On another track, don't forget that Granny could whup just about anyone outside of the family if she got her dander up -- especially if she could get a shot of her rheumatiz' medicine first.
* Yes, I know that officially the Boomers are by some reckoning supposed to encapsulate people born through '64, but I don't buy it. The cut-off more properly belongs in the late '50s. The current envelope is too broad, and there's too great a difference for us to all be considered the same generation.
Okay, FIRST, I never saw Granny standing between a junkie and his fix. Yeah, sure, I saw her beat the hell out of a whole lot of "regular" people. Crazed psycho's...not once.
As to the government crack-down on my pseudoephedrine-bearing cold and sinus med well, I can't argue your points. I agree that it's one more way for them to regulate things they have no business regulating. It would appear that this falls under the heading of Medicine We Thought Was Okay To Dispense Liberally But Oops! We've Now Changed Our Minds. They can't quite take it back to controlled substance status, but they believe (or so they say) that it's ready access makes it risky. Mostly, it just drives me nuts!! Primarily, because I use this product nearly daily. So, I buy it every few weeks. And, every few weeks I have to through the aggravation all over again.
Well, if you'd quit running a meth lab you wouldn't have to worry.
Yeah, one of my favorite quotes from these fascisti: "If you've got nothing to hide, why are you so hung up on losing your privacy?"
(Come to think of it, I may have said that back in my own fascisti days...)
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