Remember back during the interview phase when I said I was interested in the pharmacy job because I thought it was a position that wouldn't include cleaning a restroom? Seems I didn't think things through well enough.
How did it not occur to me that each and every day at work I would be swimming in an oozing, repulsive sea of germs?
Sooooooo, people come directly from their doctors' offices to us. I guess I should have seen that coming. And during cold and flu season, they come with their coughing and their sneezing and their general extrusion of germs. Directly to us. To me. Coughing and sneezing into their hands and using those same hands to give me their prescriptions. And their money. Money fished out from dirty, germy, damp pockets. Gag.
But that's not the worst of it.
People also hand me their empty, used medicine vials and ask for refills. We don't reuse the vials. We recycle them. But customers insist on handing their foul, dead bottles to me anyway. Every single time this happens, I have a clear vision in my head of this person waking up every morning for a month, using the bathroom, likely not washing their junk-wiping, ball-scratching hands, then taking their morning meds. And at the end of this honeymoon, they hand the entire infested bundle over to me. Gag.
But that's not the worst of it.
Customers fish money out from coat pockets and jeans pockets and the bottoms of purses. This money is dumped on the counter--along with crumbs and lint and hair, which is all left there for me to take care of.
People take Kleenexes out of their pockets, use them, and leave them on the counter.
A man today, in the middle of paying for his prescription, took a napkin out of his pocket--a napkin he had been using to blow his nose--opened it up, started blowing, stopped in mid blow and finished paying, WHILE HOLDING HIS NAPKIN HANKY OPEN. Super gagatrociousness!!!
And still, that's not the worst of it.
We've had bleeders. A young man who had just had his wisdom teeth removed and was still quite high came in with his friend to pick up his post-op meds. He should have stayed in the car. Instead of drooling blood down his face and onto his shirt and onto the counter, he should have stayed in the car.
In another nauseating tooth removal event, a woman in her 60's--old enough to know better!--came in, removed the bloody gauze from her oral surgery site and asked me to help her place it where it needed to be. I felt very confident as I called a pharmacist over to assist that which I am most certainly not qualified to do.
I can't deal with blood and snot and drool and unwashed potty hands. I'm the girl who can't stand to be near anyone brushing their teeth. Seeing someone else flossing makes my stomach quiver. Hearing another person gargle gives me that taste in the back of my mouth like I'm about to throw up. And God help the child who dares to eat cold cereal in my vicinity--what with all the chewing and the crunching and the slurping and hhhggggcchhttthh
Sorry. That was me dry heaving.
As bad as all this is, Beautiful's boss had it even worse today. Beautiful and her boss went to lunch together. At the end of lunch, without any warning--just like a 3 year old--Beautiful suddenly vomited. On the table. And herself. And . . . Yeah. You get the picture.
Beautiful's boss quickly fetched towels and helped clean Beautiful up and then she . . .
I just now realized that it's entirely conceivable someone could come to my counter and spew all over the place!!!
I'm quitting. Right now.