Walgreens stalking the corner of Eagle & Darby

One day about 30 millionz yearz ago when we moved here to H-Town and promptly got our first case of raging poison ivy (Seriously, people, we need to monetize this township's poison ivy. It's industrial grade), we asked all around town for this miracle cure stuff called Zanfel that our neighbors swore by. No store had it, except Katz Pharmacy at the corner of Darby and Eagle Rd. Which meant I had to go in there. Katz was one of "those" businesses. It was the kind of place that just looked... private, like not the kind of place non-townies just strolled into and browsed around. I'd never set foot in the place and now I had to endure the Awkward First Customer Silence of Northeastern corridor small town shops. Southern shopkeeps save up their awkward silence for their own people, usually in efforts to pretend they don't know their regular customer has a scalding case of herpes which he just generously handed over to the preacher's daughter. Strangers, though, are overwhelmed with southern hospitality, good-natured questions and smiles. Northerners at most will acquiesce a cold "Let me know if I can help you with anything," which is basically saying, "We don't know you and aren't convinced we even want your money." And then they give you the shoplifter stare until you actually flash some cash in their face (which they'll still test with those stupid fake highlighter markers anyway). Katz Pharmacy seemed like exactly this kind of store. But as more and more of this wretched rash spread throughout my system, I was desperate to try anything. I had to get the Zanfel quickly, so first I called Katz under the guise to see if they had any in stock but in reality it was to pre-announce my arrival in hopes to avoid all of the aforementioned awkwardness. Whether it was my phone-in strategy or just the general ease of the pharmacists, my trip to Katz wasn't painful. The only squirmy part of the whole transaction was me. Some of that due to my anticipation of First … [Read more...]