Being for any length of time in a standard big chain pharmacy can make for a revolting experience. From Good Citizen at thegoodcitizen.com:
Scenes from a nut house, or observations from a trip to Walgreens in suburban Portland, Oregon.
For much of the sane world, or whatever’s left of it, the plandemic theatre is over. But some places refuse to let go. The following was observed during a 20-minute wait in line at a Walgreens pharmacy in early June.
Don’t take refuge in the false security of consensus and the feeling that you’re bound to be okay because you’re safely in the majority.
— Christopher Hitchens
The packed family minivans pulled up to the drive-thru window visible through the plexiglass wall of the interior pharmacy in the back. The man working the drive-thru was younger than thirty, yet weighed over three hundred pounds. His fat rolls melted down to his knees concealing half his upper legs, torso, and hips. If he wasn’t on cholesterol, heart, diabetes, and a host of other drugs himself, he soon would be. Maybe he’ll get an employee discount.
He sat slouched toward the exterior drive-thru window, presumably on a sturdy stool all of which was concealed by his massive girth, while barking half coherent orders through a face diaper into a microphone at the families who all dutifully wore masks, inside their cars, on a hot summer day.