Dear Mr. Pharmacist

Dear Mr. Pharmacist,

I realize that there is a law here in AZ that I cannot by Pseudoephedrine without having to sign some paperwork. Because I practically never buy it anymore, I was not aware that your pharmacy has the process computerized. Ooh, shiny. I'm so impressed. /sarc There was absolutely no need to treat me with scorn and disdain because I was unaware. One might think that my ignorance of the nifty new way you do things would indicate that I don't buy mass quantities of Pseudoephedrine to shake and bake in the back seat of my car into meth. Perhaps you just assumed that I was feigning ignorance though, or worse yet had addled that corner of my mind sucking on a meth pipe. A more astute observer would have noticed I still have all my teeth, have no gaping wounds on my face, and actually have a few extra pounds that a meth habit would have eaten away months ago. But no, you had to be a complete douche and make me wish I had never walked into your store.

The only reason I will ever come back is because the woman at the front counter was a ray of sunshine after your little black rain cloud moment. She oozed ten times as much friendliness as you did animosity. I am now afraid to stand in the center of the store though as the difference between the two of you could create a personality black hole into which a person could disappear never to be heard from again.

So thank you very much for making me feel like I was an inch tall because I didn't know your fancy little process. Life is short. Maybe you should spend some time with that happy woman at the front counter. She might teach you a thing or two.

Sincerely,
Code Monkey

PS Nice plugs.