In 1963, someone by the name of Stanley Goldstein decides to open a pharmacy in America. In 2016, someone by the name of Yours Truly enters such pharmacy. And what do I find by the greatest culture shock of my life.
In Europe, pharmacies are the size of a shoebox, but it’s impossible to miss them. They have an unnecessarily large sign by the door, that quite frankly is a bit misleading - I could see how some people could mistake the cross for a crucifix and going in thinking that they are going to a sermon, and there’s all these teenagers tempted by the green neon colors believing they are marching into a marihuana disco parlor. There’s also an incessant ding dong ding dong ding dong ding dong that reverberates in your ears each time someone with a cold or in need for plasters goes in. And yet, with all potential limitations, European pharmacies stick to the plan. They sell medicines. They weigh your babies. They measure your blood pressure. And at most they pierce your ears.
It’s a different story when you go to an American pharmacy, particularly to a CVS Pharmacy, thanks to the visionary Stanley Goldstein. The ratio medicine to random stuff is 15%. That means that it is more likely than you find a beach chair, picture hanging strips, a pet bed, an LED selfie light, a tie-dye kit, a campfire pack with firewood, sleepers, silicone coverup “no show concealers”, and panic panties, than Paracetamol. I am not even making any of these products up. I went to a field trip this Thursday with Miss Margot and specifically instructed her to find the most nonsensical objects she could find. And what are panic panties anyways.
You are always greeted when you enter into a CVS. Welcome, let us know if you have any questions, I am convinced they have the recording of an employer that springs every time you enter. The equivalent of the European ding dong ding dong ding dong ding dong. You are also greeted by fungal spores and bacteria sprouting from the carpets, Welcome, let us know if you’d like any Salmonella or urinary infection! I have never seen dirtier carpets than at a CVS. I think they must buy them dirty. This is not dirty enough, I still cannot see the E. coli!!!!, says the manager attempting to boost his Florastor, Culturelle and Ciprofloxacin sales up that month.
Some times I am not sure what festivity is coming up and I attend CVS to get educated. Presently you can find nutcrackers, all sorts of Father Christmas, Christmas earrings, Christmas tiaras, but surprisingly no Christmas jumpers, and some left over scented brooms and talking pumpkins.
The average number of aisles in a CVS is 10. This is going to be hard, alright, says the manager to the toy designer, but listen, you have 2 inches of one of the 10 aisles to fill with toys, alright. And here’s the poor toy designer browsing the Toy’s’us catalog thinking What on earth should I pick. And what on earth should I pick indeed because the selection of toys, a Pokemon next to a stuffy of the Grinch monster, is interesting to say the least.
The most iconic product at CVS are of course the receipts. If you fold them over, they are the size of a toilet roll. Not even the scribes in monastic communities used papyrus as long as the CVS receipts. Some times they even tempt you with a $2.34 reward coupon. And there I am browsing all the average 10 corridors to see what delight can I buy for $2, which is usually a lollipop by the counter, a bottle of water next to the passport picture parlor, or a minibag of nuts hidden amidst the four million different types of chocolate bars. Forget buying any cosmetic product from the highly protected areas. Even if they cost $2 they will be locked to avoid all temptations, and you will have to press the button of shame to call one of the employees that will be very inconvenienced to provide you with the goods even if they promised Wellcome let me know if you have any questions.

But you see, they must entertain you. If your partner requires Amoxicillin to cure his acute otitis media and sends you to CVS Pharmacy, you must be prepared to loaf around for at least 15 minutes. It’s all a marketing premise to get you distracted into thinking you are buying sexy men underwear instead of wet pads. You may also end up buying 5 more nail polishes of almost exactly-but-no-the-same-you-would-not-understand shade of pink. And when you think you have learnt the layout of the CVS stadium and are ready to answer In which aisle can you find cleaning supplies?, you may proceed back to the till, where they will hand you the brown bag with the classic transparent orange tube that Europeans can recognize from movies.
I cannot even imagine what treasures may CVS pharmacists uncover on a daily basis. Can I use baby lotion for my dry hands, or is that just for babies? Is it okay to take my medication with pickle juice? My baby loves the sound of my hairdryer. Can I use it to help them sleep?
So, in the unforeseeable event that one day I ran out of topics for The Great Nonsense, I will wear my white lab coat and wonder around the aisles of this remarkable institution known as a CVS Pharmacy.
Never heard of “Panic Panties”! CVS…what a marvel.