City Paper is not for tourists
There’s always one cashier working at CVS when I need three. And there’s always a line. It doesn’t matter how big the line, it could just be one dude clutching a box of Honeycomb. It will still feel like the line for the Shockwave circa ’86.
I’m not one of those line groaners. I don’t feel the need to do the huff-and-mumble letting it be known to others that the wait is somehow bullshit, that if I don’t buy this shampoo in the next 30 seconds I’m going to explode. I have an iPod. I listen to my iPod. Sebadoh has gotten me through a lot worse.
But even Lou Barlow’s girl troubles sometimes fail the CVS line. So I will sometimes make a silent prayer to myself as I walk through the CVS entrance and see five deep not including a wet-nosed three-year: Chill, you will be out of here in five minutes, tops.
Last night I knew that neither the sad indie rock nor the prayer was gonna work. The line went almost into one of the aisles—-presumably the crap candy aisle—-and included a young couple wielding diapers and a bag for returns. Returns = line hell.
Fuck this. I walked right up to the counter and grabbed an US Weekly off the rack, the one about Angelina adopting another baby. I’ve gone with the mag option every time at Safeway. Why not try it at CVS?
The one cashier working gave me a look.
Fuck the look.
Until CVS understands that customer service extends to including two cashiers working at once, you should be able to flip through an US Weekly.
Please share your tips and CVS horror stories!