Dear Pharmacy, Please stop being the worst place in the world. Thanks, Erin

I had the pleasure of waiting in the pharmacy's busy prescription pick-up center today for about an hour. No kidding. I mean, it's not like I have anything better to do. It's not like I don't enjoy sitting there, watching people cough up lungs and wipe dirty noses on their sleeves. Who doesn't like a little bit of that? I know I sure do.

But the best part of all -- no, not the crying kid; nope, not the old lady who yelled at the pharmacist to "hurry the (expletive) up already" -- I'm talking about the music.

The stupid music.

No wonder people are cranky. No wonder people are short and snippy and mean. No wonder everyone there looked like they wanted to hurt someone. My god, that was harsher than any pill they could have behind that counter.

We -- myself and about a dozen other people over the course of the 50 minutes -- were subjected to THE WORST '70s and '80s slow, sappy love songs. I'm talking "Wind Beneath My Wings." I can handle some '80s. I love classics like "In Your Eyes," because of John Cusak in "Say Anything." I like a bit of Hall & Oates. I like some "Breakfast Club" favorites. I appreciate a good "Total Eclipse of the Heart," because I believe that, when forced, that song makes the perfect karaoke song (with a few drinks and at least 17 friends).

However, I have a low tolerance for bad songs and mean people, so this pretty much cemented my bad Rx experience.

So, I'm writing a letter. Only I'm pretty lazy when it comes to writing letters that no one will read, so I won't mail it. As a matter of fact, I'll just put it here on my blog for you to read.

Dear Big Box Pharmacy Chain,

I realize that you feel it is you duty to make me feel better. I appreciate that. So in order for you and I to continue down this path, we're going to have to make some changes. I won't blog about you, if you promise to change your music. I've listed some suggestions for you to consider:

1. Play some Billy Joel. When he played "Keeping the Faith" in a courtroom, he made people dance. I'm sure it'd have the same effect. Blind men would see, the weak could walk. It'd be a miracle.

2. Play nothing. I'm cool with no music over bad music, hands down.

3. Tune into a radio station instead of a looping CD. That'd be sweet, because you could give me something to look forward to while I wait: "Ooh, maybe THIS will be the last song before a commercial break."

4. Cut my waiting time by 99 percent. I want to be in and out. That way, I have a fair shot of getting out before the "flllyyyyyyyyyyyyyy, flyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy, fly higgggghhhher than the sky, so high I almost touched the sky, thaaaaaaank you," part of the song, thus saving me hours of torment and agony.

Sincerely,
Erin