Originals

I’m Just Waiting to Get Something Unlocked at CVS

It’s been three minutes since I hit the “Customer Service” button on the men’s body wash case, yet I’m still waiting for an employee to come unlock it. Should I hit the button again? I’m going to hit the button again.

 

I apologize to all the shoppers who were enjoying Chris Martin’s masterpiece ‘Viva La Vida’ until a robotic voice ruined the flow with, “Customer service needed in the skin care department.” But I need this body wash—and, honestly, fungal cream, as well. Once they unlock the body wash, I’m also going to ask them to unlock that case for me. I’d rather not hit that button and alert the entire store to my toe thing.

 

Another two minutes have passed. Robin Thicke is playing. I don’t know the name of the song. I’m considering wandering until I find an employee, but with my luck, they’re already on their way and we’d pass each other like ships in the night. It’s settled: I’m going to remain here until I get my body wash or really need to pee, whichever comes first. And I only kind of need to pee.

 

Is there anything else in the vicinity I can grab while I wait? I forgot to do a quick inventory of my toiletries before I left the house. Am I low on toothpaste? Huh, that’s odd, the toothpaste isn’t locked up. I wonder how CVS decides which products get locked up and which ones don’t?



 

An article I read—well, a  TikTok I saw—claimed they lock stuff because otherwise, homeless people steal it. To be clear, I’m not blaming the homeless. I don’t hate them or think they’re gross. I’m a good person. Ignore the fact that I walked right past someone outside begging for help, I’m in such a rush! (Which is why it’s particularly frustrating that I’ve now been waiting six minutes.) I’m sure the staff here is overworked and underpaid, too, so I’ll check my privilege. Here I am, annoyed by having to wait a few extra minutes, while they have to—

 

Forget all that, someone just hit the button in the family planning aisle, and an employee immediately appeared to help them unlock the condoms! This CVS location must have a vendetta against me. I never should’ve asked the pharmacist to ring up that Vitamin Water Zero when I was getting my prescriptions last month. I know that’s not their job and still, I did it.

 

Or maybe certain sections in the store get immediate responses? The customer may need condoms this instant. Meanwhile, they assume that I can wait a little longer for body wash—especially because they don’t know I need fungal cream as well. Don’t get me wrong, the fungus isn’t, like, super urgent. Though it could start to ooze.

 

Okay, I officially really need to pee, and it would be rude to hit the button a third time. I’m going home. I’ll order the body wash (and fungal cream) on Amazon. It’s not like I’ll feel bad about hurting a local mom and pop shop, CVS is a billionaire-dollar corporation. Amazon probably owns them, anyway. But I’ll always feel bad about interrupting ‘Viva La Vida.’