Prescription for Who?

Back in my college days I worked part-time as a pharmacy technician for CVS. Those of you who’ve done your homework might be asking yourselves if this is how I met my hubby, (the pharmacist who counts by threes) and the answer is yes…but I digress.

I was a hard-working employee in a very busy store, but there was one day in particular that will always stand out in my mind. It was a Monday and we were in the throws of the five o’clock rush. The waiting area was full of people and the line at the drive thru wrapped around the building. The pharmacist finished checking several prescriptions and laid them on top of the counter. I picked them up and began calling out names. If no one from the crowd stepped forward to claim the prescription, then I filed it away in the bin and called the next name.

“Prescription for Jones.” No response.

“Prescription for Stephenson.” No response.

“Prescription for Atwater.” No response.

“Prescription for Khunt.”

A hush instantly fell over the crowd and all eyes were on me. The pharmacist’s voice calmly interjected, “Lori,that is pronounced Koont.”

Having realized what I had just shouted, I blushed severely. “My apologies, Mr. Koooont” I replied to the squirrely little man who had regretfully stepped forward to claim his prescription. I was desperate to dig myself out of a hole and I was trying to save face.

“Do you have any questions about your medicine?” I asked just before I glanced down at the ticket and read the word, “Viagra.”

“No,” he replied as he snatched the prescription from my hand. “I’ve taken it before.”

Oh, the irony, so thick that day you could’ve cut it with a knife. As for poor little Mr. Khunt, he became a drive thru customer thereafter, and I was given a hiatus from the cash register. Win-win.