Pharmaceutica: A WOMAN FOR ALL SEASONS

SCENE: A busy retail pharmacy. TECHNICIAN (TECH) stands at a monitor at the Consult window. She taps away noisily at the keyboard, engrossed in a task. PATIENT approaches and waits to be helped.


TECH: Hi! How can I help you?


PATIENT: Hi, how's it going. I’m here to refill a prescription. For some reason, it wasn’t ready [mildly annoyed].


TECH: I see [all business]. What’s your last name?


PATIENT: [about to speak, TECH interrupts]


TECH: Sorry! Can’t see without my glasses [she starts rummaging around in the pockets of her scrubs]. Okay! [places them on her face]


PATIENT: Great. Last name is Smith, spelled S-M-I–


TECH: [seductively runs the tip of her tongue along her lower lip] These are my sexy librarian glasses.


PATIENT: Oooh! [approvingly and lasciviously] 


TECH: [whips them off and replaces with a different pair] John Lennon glasses.


PATIENT: Imagine that.


TECH: [whips off and replaces] Leon Trotsky glasses.

PATIENT: Radical, but I’ll allow it.


TECH: [whips off and replaces] These are my Mickey Rooney Breakfast at Tiffany’s glasses.

PATIENT: Oh my God! That’s so racist. Do better [folds arms across chest with a smug expression].


TECH: You’re right–my bad [cringes apologetically before whipping off glasses and replacing] These are my military issue glasses during the Vietnam war.


PATIENT: Wow. 


TECH: Thank you [slightly bows]. Here are my Michael Douglas Falling Down glasses [whips off Vietnam, on with Michael Douglas].

PATIENT: Different. Are you an accountant? [jokingly]


TECH: No! [laughing] But I could be [solemnly].


PATIENT: Next!


TECH: [whips off old glasses, replaces with new] These are my SJP Square Pegs glasses, circa 1982 [tries to look sexy by biting her lower lip]

PATIENT: [recoils] Ugh! Take those off.


TECH: Does nothing for you?


PATIENT: No, no, and no.


TECH: How about…WKRP Jan Smithers glasses [whips and replaces]

PATIENT: Oh yeah, baby. Now we’re talking.


TECH: [whips and replaces] Then you’ll love…Audrey Hepburn Breakfast at Tiffany’s glasses.

PATIENT: Meh [shrugs, unimpressed]. At least they’re not racist.


TECH: Yeah. [whips off and replaces] Risky Business glasses.

PATIENT: I liked Rebecca DeMornay better…did she wear glasses?


TECH: Who cares?


PATIENT: Her hand can rock my cradle anytime.


TECH: [slowly nodding] Obscure reference, but I’ll allow it. [whips and replaces] Joe Biden glasses.

PATIENT: [nods along] Geriatric Top Gun.


TECH: Wait for it…[whips and replaces] Jackie O., circa 1971 glasses.


PATIENT: Sexy. If you’re an insect. You kinda look like her [thoughtfully].


TECH: Thank you…I think. [whips and replaces] Elvis glasses.






PATIENT: Hot Elvis or bloated Elvis?


TECH: Bloated, of course.


PATIENT: Wait a minute! These are all sunglasses, they don’t count. At all.


TECH: Bloated Elvis. Nothing?


PATIENT: Nauseated [suppresses a burp].


TECH: [frowns and then deeply inhales before whipping and replacing] OK. Ali MacGraw, Love Story glasses, circa 1970.


PATIENT: No!


TECH: OK, no bueno…[whips and replaces] Joan Didion sunglasses.

PATIENT: [high pitch scream] Aaaaaaaah! STOP! Horrifying. I don’t know who that is, STOP!


TECH: Got it. [whips and replaces with original sexy librarian glasses]


PATIENT: [yelling, exasperated] I just want to refill my Viagra! [entire pharmacy which is usually loud and bustling falls quiet and looks over at TECH and PATIENT]


TECH: Relax. I’m a sexy librarian again.


PATIENT: [sighs with relief] Good. 


TECH: Let’s see…[starts tapping at keyboard again] Last name “Smith,” and the first name?


PATIENT: John [tightly, through pursed lips].


TECH: And date of birth?


PATIENT: 11/19/1970.


TECH: Right. [brightly] Here we are. Bad news.


PATIENT: What?


TECH: You have zero refills…


PATIENT: [starts banging his head on the counter]


TECH: But I can reach out to the doctor to request more!

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