Ever since I became a night pharmacist I’ve contended that there isn’t a better pharmacy job out there. Sure, there may be jobs that are more fulfilling. There may be jobs that would allow me to put more of my high powered education to use, to be the big-brained professional that the health care system needs. Just not for me. I wouldn’t trade all the engagement in the world for the freedom that my current job affords me, not only for my time spent at work but for the time I’m away from work. Ask any other pharmacist when the next time is they’ll have 7 days off in a row and they’ll laugh in your face. I get it every other week.
I’m definitely not trying to brag. There’s a reason why night positions aren’t hard to get. Most pharmacists don’t want them. It boggles my mind, but there are a variety of reasons (that I suppose are sound enough for those who have them) more people don’t want the graveyard. I’m getting away from my point, however. The point here is that although I thought my job couldn’t get much better, tonight it has.
I’ve written before about the music that plays all day long at Corpopharm. We’ve all experienced it before, the standard soft rock/pop that can be heard in any chain store across America. Unoffensive, unassuming and most importantly, upbeat. I imagine there’s some study out there that shows listening to the music in a Corpopharm makes people want to buy shitty merchandise, and I wouldn’t doubt it for a second. It’s the type of fair that might make someone think, on an unconscious level, “Saaayyyyy, maybe I will buy one of those back scratchers.” Or “That 3XL tshirt is such a delightful shade of fuschia, I’d better pick up a few more.” To some, spending 15 minutes in the ‘As Seen On TV’ aisle might seem like a sane thing to do when you’ve got ‘Lyin Eyes’ rolling in the background. The only problem is that it makes me a bit edgy. Here’s a few examples.
Manic Monday: Madonna
As soon as this song starts up, I get the urge to run at the first living thing I see and kill it.
Believe: Cher
In the tender words of David Cross, I’d rather hear the death rattle of my only child than listen to that piece of shit one more time.
What’s Love Got To Do With It: Tina Turner
Hearing this song makes me wish that Ike had been a little heavier with the hands.
Hearing the awful music at Corpopharm might not seem so bad to the casual visitor. However, imagine the mild discomfort you experience after being subjected to that noise for 10 minutes, then imagine hearing it for 40 hours every week. This mix doesn’t change, either. It’s the same thing, every… single… day. It’s a recipe for disaster, and I honestly can’t believe that more Corpopharm employees don’t go postal.
I asked the manager at the first Corpopharm I worked at if something could be done about the auditory assault that we were all encountering every day at work. He calmly explained to me that the music, along with every other aspect of the store, was controlled at a Corporate level. Nothing to be done, he said. I accepted the answer because 1) why would he lie, and 2) I acted under the false assumption that everyone was as abused by the music as I was. If the store manager was undergoing the same mental molestation I was, why wouldn’t he want to do something about it?
The old saying, all good things to those who wait, is bullshit. After a careful inspection of the office at my store, I found this. I can’t believe I didn’t see it before.
On this simple little box was the knob of my dreams, the knob of my destiny. Once I saw it, I felt such simple and clear content that I smiled and said, ‘Ah! Yes.’ The knob that’s marked ‘Aux’ is the very knob that controls the volume of the ‘music’ that has been torturing my psyche all this time. After feeling the rough, cool plastic serrations on the side, I knew it was real. I smiled again, closed my eyes, and turned it all the way to the left.
Immediately, the Corpopharm soundtrack was gone. Absolutely, perfectly, irrefutably gone. It may have never been there. In it’s place, I could hear the angels singing.
