Pharmacy. Jim Plagakis. Pharmacist

INCLUDES ADULT LANGUAGE, BUT IS A VERY FUNNY DRUG STORE TALE. I know that some of you don’t like “bad” language, so YOU ARE WARNED. Stay away.

I’m standing at the computer doing what a pharmacist does at the big chain drug store where I work two days a week. My neck hurts a little because I forgot my computer glasses and I have to lean my head back to read my work. The screen is too high for me, but that’s just tough shit.

The checkout counter is to my right. I like to cashier. It is a good diversion from my neck ache. I’ve been a good cashier since my first drug store job in 1956. I was 15 years old for those out there who are grabbing for your calculators.

I was checking out a drug interaction between clonazepam and methadone. I probably would not have paid much attention had it not been for a below the fold article about methadone deaths on the front page of The New York Times a few weeks ago. I love The Times. You do not find bullshit on the front page of the most influential newspaper on the planet. Because of the article, I called for the patient to come to the consultation window.

Seconds later, to my right, at the register, I heard a loud blustery voice say, “What da fuck?”

I looked over and there stood PAULY, from the Sopranos. Well almost. This guy was in his mid-70s, had his thick grey hair in a slicked black pompadour. True to the Island panache, he wore a Corona tee-short and cargo shorts. Sandals on his feet. He wore shades and had a toothpick between his lips.

Back story. Galveston, Texas is a very old and very rich Gulf of Mexico town (59,000). It has always been a beach resort and today you can find $250.00 rooms at the San Luis Resort or drive 8 miles to the east to what we locals call “The Redneck Riviera” and get a room for $39.00.

Galveston is a town in transition. The developers will find those vacant lots on Seawall Blvd and, in another decade, there will be no $39.00 rooms and the Redneck Riviera will have gone.

The Galveston culture is conspicuous even at the Kroger grocery store where women my age still put on a Marilyn Monroe juju. 65 year old women as sex objects. On the seawall, you’ll see their opposites. Hard bodies of retirement age on bicycles, walking or running. Galveston! What a town. It is an attitude, not a location.

This is where The Pharmacy Alliance holds its annual April meetings.

I looked over to the register, the technician, perfectly able to handle this, said, “Watch your language please.” She is a veteran. WHAT DA FUCK is not going to stir her cockles.

“Pauly” repeated himself, “What da fuck?” He pulled his shoulders up and held his hands like cowboys about to draw his guns. “What da fuck is this ninety-seven bucks for six tablets? What da fuck?” He hunched again.

“That’s the price, Sir.” She actually yawned. “I don’t set the prices.”

PAULY gave her a stare. “You getting’ smart with me?” I loved this man. He made old age look cool. He had a good tan (Ten minutes a day in the Galveston summer sun and you have a good tan) and was wearing a thick gold chain around his neck.

Before 1959, there was a big casino/night club at the end of a long pier into the gulf opposite the Hotel Galvez. Of course, gambling was illegal, but the gambling business thrived. Flamboyant Galveston. Police and Sheriff looked the other way. Movie stars got married at the Galvez. Frank Sinatra, Tony Bennett, Louis Prima and Keely Smith were some of the name entertainment. Gambling brought big money to this Gulf of Mexico Island where Jean Lafitte’s treasure is supposed to be buried.

Then came 1959 and the Texas Rangers (sort of the FBI of Texas) came and shut down gambling in Galveston until the state gets tired of so much Texas money going to Louisiana one day. People like PAULY here were leftovers from that time. They opened stores. They made their money other ways. Don’t ask. Oh, okay, it is well known that the highest of the high priced call girls peel off their skirts at the San Luis and the Galvez. Perhaps even at the family friendly Moody Gardens late at night. PAULY? No “Hookers” for Pauly. You find them on the sidewalk down at the redneck Riviera very late at night.

I went over to PAULY and smiled.

“What da fuck,” he said, hunching up his shoulders. He sort of threw his Rx bag at me. I looked at it.

“Viagra is expensive,” I said.

“That’s fuckin’ twenty dollars for every piece of ass.” He glared at me as if it was my fault. “I ain’t payin’ that kind of shit for fuckin’ VIGRA.”

I looked at his prescription. His name was Johnny Smecca. His friend, equally scary, had been calling him BULL when he asked Johnny to calm down. The Rx was for 25 mg tablets.

“Mister Smecca….” I started.

“Mister Smecca was my father. I’m Johnny.”

“Okay, Johnny, these are 25 mg tablets. You can get six 100 mg tablets for the same money. Around $97.00. You just cut them into fourths and you get twenty four pie… ah.. encounters for the same money.”

Johnny Smecca gave me a you-bullshittin-me? look. “What da fuck?” he said, but it was an exclamation of comprehension instead of aggravation.

I said this with a smile. “Man, I am not bullshitting you. Johnny, if your doctor had written for 100 mg tablets and told you to cut them into fourths, your blood pressure would not have gone up.”

“Whad the fuck you mean blood pressure?’ He leaned over the counter toward me. Oh Oh.

“Bull,” his friend looked at my name tag. “Jim is helping you. Listen to him.

“What I’m telling you, Johnny, is that your doctor is costing you twenty bucks an encounter because he prescribed 25 mg instead of 100 mg.”

“What the fuck, Jim, you mean that motherfucker is costing me twenty bucks for every piece of ass? That is a fuckin’ “C” note every week. I ain’t fuckin’ Tony Soprano.” Honest to goodness. He actually said that. Then, “I’m goin’ back to that motherfucker and I’m gonna…..”

“Johnny,” I put my hand up. The STOP sign. “Johnny, there is no need to go back to (I was dying to say THAT MOTHERFUCKER) the doctor.”

The Fifth Element rip “What da fuck?” Bull was agitated. He hunched his shoulders twice.

“Johnny, I will take care of this for you.”

He was wary. “You gonna take care of this for me?”

“I will call your MOTHE.. doctor and get him to change the prescription.”

“You are willing to do that favor for me, Jim?” He stepped back.

His friend was nodding his head. “Jim’s gonna take care of it for you, Bull.”

Johnny Smecca looked me over. “I like your tie, Jim.”

“Thanks, Johnny.”

“Then I get twenty four..” Johnny looked at his friend and laughed, “I get twenty four ENCOUNTERS for a “C” note.”

“That’s right, Johnny.”

He gave me a long, thoughtful look. “If you are willing to do that favor for me, Jim. I would like that.”

After Johnny left the counter, I get nervous. What the fuck if I couldn’t reach the motherfucker? Aiy Yi Yi. Not a good thought. My heart calmed down fifteen minutes later when I had the Rx for 100 mg in hand. The doctor had no idea that all strengths of Viagra are the same price. Cialis and Levitra too.

Right before I left for the day, the technician called me over, “Johnny Smecca wants to talk with you.”

Johnny had already paid for his six 100 mg Viagra. He gave me a look. “I owe you, Jim. I owe you a favor. If you ever need anything, Jim. You call me. I pay my favors, Jim and I owe you.”

Shit, I’m saving this one for when I need somebody’s legs broken. Only in Galveston.

JP