When Did Shopping at the Pharmacy Become Needlessly Complicated?

This past Saturday was rainy and most certainly dreary. Not willing to venture out anywhere important, I figured I'd start packing up some items I was selling on eBay. One problem: I was out of packing tape. So I drove down to Walgreens for a simple roll of the stuff. In-and-out, right? No. Although I was only the third person on line, it was a fifteen minute wait. Seems a middle-aged woman, apparently thrifty, was discussing the "points" or "charges" on her receipt. It sounded like a stream of nonsensical numbers and words. She could have been speaking Esperanto for all I cared. All I wanted to do was pay for my sticky tape and be on my merry way.

Part of me wanted to jump up on the counter, scream down into this lady's face about how she was 'selfish' for monopolizing the time and services of the one cashier in the entire store and cap it off with me punting her items into the greeting card aisle. But it suddenly dawned on me. It wasn't her fault. Buying anything at a drug store has become unnecessarily complicated.

It wasn't so long ago you'd go into your local drug store to get a prescription, some cold medicine, simple household items or maybe a box of condoms for some wild party to which I obviously was not invited. Nowadays though, in an effort to be competitive, the big chain stores (e.g. CVS, Eckerd's, Walgreen's, etc.) have concentrated more on promotional sales gimmicks for a baffling array of non-essential merchandise while, if you're lucky, one or two pharmacists on duty to handle the for realsies sick people. And they're too busy running background checks on some poor sap who just needed some cough syrup and is not looking to start up a meth lab.

Your dramatic pose won't keep me from buying my Nyquil, Mr. Hypno-Pharmacist.

First off are those god-awful 'savings cards.' You know them. Fill in your information and carry the card around with you in order to participate in the sales. Those are the same 'sales' that used to be open to everyone, not just those who take the time to upchuck their personal information onto an application. And yes, I know you can use the 'store card' if you ask. But is this what it's come to? We have to 'ask nicely' to be charged the advertised lower price instead of the everyday high price while losing hold of our last shred of dignity?

At any rate, the aim of those cards, besides tracking how often you buy enemas and petroleum jelly, is to offer you specialized coupons and deals. These appear on your now ludicrously long receipt. Buy enough stuff and you're handed the Dead Sea Scrolls. Meanwhile, all those little 'personalized' coupons have stringent rules and expiration dates, almost all of which is ignored by some poor old lady who wanted to save 20% on a bag of Werther's Originals (which is also on sale). Clarification by way of long, slow and thorough explanation (that'll need to be repeated, please) by the only available cashier is required and, suddenly, the entire store comes to a standstill.  Of course they can't hire extra cashiers. That'll cut into the portion of the budget used for the extra cash register tape.

The other main problem with big chain drug stores is that they're slowly becoming an outlet for groceries and bulk paper items. You know, like a supermarket. But therein lies the problem. Supermarkets are designed for shoppers who are buying a cart-full of merchandise. They have numerous lanes and even those little conveyor belts that move the items out of the way handily and must be really fun to run on but the cashiers frown upon such nonsense because they have zero tolerance for amateurs pretending they're in an OK Go video. Pharmacy cash register are not designed to accommodate the demands of the average large purchase, even though millions are spent on advertising to encourage it. Whenever I see some shopper rolling up to the cash-register with two carts, I put my items down, leave and wait it out for about a week when he or she is done arguing over why they're not accepting coupons on the mixed nuts they advertised "three for $2."

Dammit, CVS. We don't need the paper-towel addicts cluttering up the store.

Obviously, I'd try to patronize the local mom-and-pop drug stores that cut out that bullshit. But their numbers are dwindling, either being bought out by the big boys or closed outright. The ones that remain, in an effort to compete, are also expanding their product lines and introducing convoluted discount plans designed to infuriate and confound the frugal shopper as they hold up the line trying to wrap their heads around the numbers on their receipt.

It's at this point I just have to admit defeat and stand quietly on line, reading the instructions on the back of a roll of tape two or three times to ignore the throbbing pain of my childish impatience.