"Can you guys, like, cut my pills for me, so I don't have to?" asked the 19-year-old pampered princess as she sashayed up to my counter.
"Just a moment." I had to leave this one to the pharmacist. He has a nicer way of telling people to feck off than I do.
I don't know what is wrong with this girl. She is always like this. A few days before this happened, she was bitching because her insurance wouldn't let her get a three-month supply of her birth control. She whined that she was a college student and "didn't have time" to go to the drugstore every month. She told the pharmacist in a snotty tone to "just make it work" because she was not going to pay the cash price. Haha, yeah, good luck with that, Paris.
I don't mind doing favors for people, within reason. If you are elderly, or disabled, or have rheumatoid arthritis, I'll be happy to cut your tablets in half for you, or remove the blister packaging from your iron pills, or whatever you need. But if you treat me like a Victorian scullery maid, you can just Feck Off.