Pass the Excedrin

Kee-rist!  my grandmother liked to say when pushed past her patience and trying hard not to throw something.

I know the feeling.

For reasons I can't fathom, once your check numbers make into the 5 digit range, my bank drops the 1st digit on the bottom part of the check.  This means that the check number on the bottom doesn't exactly match the number in the upper right corner - not rocket science to decipher - but more than adequate to stump the fine folks at Rite Aid and their check verification service.  

It's not within their parameters, the cashier tells me with an indifferent shrug, We can't take it.

I protest and ask for a manager - pointing out that every other pharmacy in this city, every grocery store and every department store, even the post office - all take my checks with barely a second look.  The manager, a squinty eyed, chubby little gnome in bifocals and a stained polo shirt, listens to his cashier and hands me back my check and ID with a muttered and bored, Sorry.  In return, I gingerly hand him back the little Rite Aid plastic bag with my medication in it - he takes it uncertainly, reminding me of the dog walkers I see carrying their little plastic bags of poop and this gives me a minor but very definite thrill of satisfaction - and I walk out.  

The second night, I'm feeling optimistic so I try Walgreen's.  All goes well until the unsmiling and defensive cashier begins to ring up the sale, at which point the computer has some sort of technological seizure and it's suddenly All Stop.  With no back up plan for this kind of glitch, it takes just under 25 minutes for them to sort it out and I wind up paying three times Rite Aid's price.  There is no apology offered for the delay.

Thank you, I tell the sullen little girl behind the counter, with as much insincerity as I can summon, I won't be having you fill this again.  I consider making a formal complaint to the manager but decide I've filled my quota of interactions with idiots for the day and wasted enough time.

Service.  I don't expect it anymore but I'd settle for someone who could spell it.

Kee-rist.