CVS Pharmacy

CVS Sharon isn’t just a store. It’s a psychological endurance test designed by someone who hates happiness. I walk in and immediately feel my soul leave my body and wait for me in the parking lot. The staff? Imagine if annoyance gained sentience and put on a red polo. Every interaction feels like I’m interrupting them from an important hobby—like staring into the void. And the line. THE LINE. It’s not a line; it’s a pilgrimage. A generational journey. People enter as customers and exit as folklore. I’ve seen infants grow into full adults before reaching the register. NASA should study this place—the time dilation is unreal. Customer service is a myth here, like Bigfoot or a working printer at the DMV. Ask for help and you’ll get a sigh so heavy it could alter the Earth’s rotation. My h

Normally the pharmacy is decently efficient but tonight it was moving at such a crawl that I had to leave before picking up to make it to my next commitment. Give yourself plenty of time I guess...