Sassy Signature Log Scandal

At Corpopharm you must sign a piece of paper when you pick up a prescription. This is Corpopharm's proof that the person you're interacting with has offered the patient the opportunity to speak with a pharmacist. Pharmacies must make the offer to counsel because of this boring law that nobody cares about known as OBRA 90. That's not the point.

The point is that nobody can figure out the signature log. You could hand the signature log to a MENSA member and suddenly they would transform into a knuckle-dragging, shit-chucking mouth-breathing ape. The sig log is divided up into three columns. The middle column is designated for a sticker that comes off of the label of the prescription you are picking up. On each side of the middle column is another column, this one with a blank space. You sign on the left if you wish to wave your privilege to speak to the pharmacist, and sign on the right if you do not. It doesn't even matter which side you sign on, as long as you sign somewhere. The instructions are stated at the top of the form in plain English.

Sounds easy, right? WRONG. Last night provided a good example of just how difficult this task is for your average pharmacy patron.

Idiot: Huh? Sign?

She looked at the sig log like it was a recently uneathed Hebrew script from 150 BC. I could tell it was going to take her some time to decipher it, so I took a deep breath and provided her with instruction.

Me: See the stickers in the middle column? Just sign to the left of each one in the blank space.

She trailed her hand over the form, tracing the runes and heiroglyphs that undoubtedly danced before her eyes. Her finger stopped on the middle column, where the stickers from her prescriptions resided. There is no room to write on the stickers. She looked up at me bravely and smiled.

Idiot: (pointing to the stickers) Here?

Me: Sign on the left side of the stickers.

She looked back down at the form with a puzzled look on her face. After a few seconds she looked back up.

Idiot: I need to sign? Where?

Me: (pause for effect) Sign to the LEFT of the stickers. See the blank boxes?

Her finger made another drunken course around the sig log. She finally landed on the righthand column.

Idiot: You want me to sign to the right?

Me: (audible sigh) Send the form back in, please.

She sent the form back in (she was at the drive through, of course) and I put a large X in each box she needed to sign. They don't make us pharmacists go to six years of school for nothing. I sent the form back out, deciding that if she couldn't figure it out this time I would refill her scripts with anthrax and hope for the best.