There are a number of customers whom I refer to as ‘one of my favorites’…
There is only one who I refer to as ‘my favorite’…
He’s a crotchety old guy in his late 80’s, only… he’s actually a big ball of sweet dipped in grump giving him an outer shell of curmudgeon.
He usually walks into the store, slams his hand on the counter and says something along the lines of: “Could a guy get a little bit of customer service, here – cause that’s all I ‘spect outta you people… a little bit….”
His eyes light up when he sees me, my eyes light up when I see him. I’d say, “wha’d’ya want?” He’d say, “A bag full of 20’s.” So I got some fake $20 bills and put them in with his meds one day.
We are in the midst of a wonderful, exceptional, platonic love affair….
For 3 years I watched him take care of his dying wife of 70 years. He was mighty surly in those days… understandably. I could always seem to coax some banter out of him but as her condition deteriorated so did my ability to cheer up the old grouch (again… understandably). Inevitably, the day came when she passed. As expected, he did not handle it well.
The next thing I knew, he was in a nursing home. I went to visit him and it was awful. He had lost his will to live. This vibrant, charming, pain in the ass character was neglecting himself to death.
We sat and talked at the nursing home; him… asking me to break him out of there, me… feeling helpless and so sad to see this man brought to this… A nurse walked by as he grabbed my hand, he looked up at her and said, “I’ve loved 2 women in my life… my wife and this girl;” then he kissed my hand.
Wow…
Life, as it does, got in the way and I’m embarrassed to admit… I didn’t visit him again; I wanted to… I’m an ass.
There was a period of time when I didn’t even know where he was – he’d been moved to another home but I had no idea where; he has only distant relatives in our area and I don’t know them. Months passed; every once in a while we’d wonder where he’d gone, but I had no way to find him.
And then randomly… his son from Ohio stopped in to the store – I got an address and an update on my favorite customer. It was not good.
The next day I wrote him a 3 page letter. I got nothing back and again weeks passed. Then… outta the blue… he called to say he was coming home. I hate to say it but… I didn’t give this much credence.
Lo and behold – the next week I got discharge orders for him. Apparently he was due home on the 1st of the month (today). I won’t get into the ins and outs of how we go about this stuff but suffice it to say – we struggled to get the meds ready for him and of course… today was my Saturday off so I had to dump that on Tyler.
Tyler handled it like the champ he is (I love me some Tyler) and Trish agreed to deliver them on her way home (this is how the awesome Everett Pharmacy people roll). I was making the most of my Saturday off – I was on the couch dozing.
I had kinda forgotten all about the situation until I got a frantic text from Trish – I’ll spare you the details, you just need to know it was an SOS.
He wasn’t understanding our system of packaging meds and was getting a little belligerent. Trish asked me to come to his house right away. (At this point you also need to know – most people would’ve just left the meds and gone on about their day, Trish is not most people).
A few minutes later I walked into his house and it was uh… tense… for a bit.
“Quit being so mean, I’m trying to help you.”
“Well if this is what you call helping somebody – you’re in the wrong business.”
It went down hill from there.
He wasn’t understanding me, I surely wasn’t understanding him… Not to mention it was 97 fucking degrees in there – why in the hell do old people keep it so damned hot? I couldn’t even think with the sweat literally pouring down my back….
I’m not sure when it happened – but at some point, I broke him and he softened up a bit; he was finally picking up what I was throwing down. Well… to be honest, I’m not sure he was picking me up but at least he wasn’t fighting me.
90 minutes later I was melting and ready to leave. I looked over at his meds that were sent with him from the nursing home, “Hey… you already missed 2 doses! Come on now… you need to take these…”
“Well, what good does it do for you to be standing there talking about it? Give me the pills girl.”
I tore open the packaging and said, “Give me your hand; I don’t want to put them in my hand ’cause I was eating chips before I came over…”
“Eating chips… well… it’d be no wonder you’re so heavy…”
Karen,
I get so excited when I see that you’ve shared another story with us. This is so sweet, and I hope that you really understand how important you are to the people of your town. I love how much you love your family – those 5 Is are pretty amazing – but your extended family, the whole town of Everett, sounds pretty amazing, too. Guess my next stop through there will have to be more than a 10 minute hello and I’ll try to see this amazing little town and all that you love about it.
Susan
Thank you Susan! I love our town and its people. I’m so amazed that people take the time to read my stories… I read through that one 4 or 5 times wondering if I should publish it, even made Dan read it beforehand…. I’m blessed to have people in my life who appreciate my ramblings! Stop anytime – I loved our 10 minute reconnect!!!!
Susan, you have no idea just how much Karen means to our community. She and Dan also are loved and respected not only for their compassion for their customers, but for making them feel like famly and how inportant they are. And the thing is that it comes so natural. That whole pharmacy serves our community well, and I pray the future will be a bright, successful one for Karen and Dan as they have to struggle with all the government red tape and other bs that they endure daily. They are like our own kids, and we love all the Isemingers dearly.
I love how you took what I’m sure was a very tense confrontation into a heartwarming story. It’s so sad how we decline as we get older, but a simple act of kindness can disarm even the worst curmudgeon. And I must say, your writing is superb!
Thanks Robin… I hate to admit how often I lose my patience with elderly customers – mostly they are unawares but I’m not proud of it nonetheless.
And thanks for the compliment on my writing… my greatest wish (professionally speaking) is to make a living with my words – I just don’t know how.
Karen what a wonderful story. You had me crying and laughing. Being a small business owner myself I understand the need to help your customers, they are family. You have a big heart keep up the good work.