Closing Time, Part II

The story continues:

One of my crew went over to the door to see what the problem was; as I counted out the safe, I could hear him trying to communicate with whoever was out there. Things rapidly got louder and louder, before the crewman came back over to my desk. “He wants to speak to the Manager,” he said.

I looked up from the change drawer. “What’s the problem?” I asked.

“He says he has to get something from the pharmacy – right now!” the young checker replied.

I glanced over at our pharmacy, which had its own security gate and had been locked for an hour or so, since the pharmacy closed at 9:00 and the Pharmacy Manager had gone home shortly thereafter. “Tell him the pharmacy closed at 9,” I suggested.

“I did,” my crewman replied. “He says it’s a matter of life or death; he has to have that medication now; and he wants us to unlock the pharmacy and get his meds out.”

I snorted derisively. Only the Pharmacy Manager is allowed to have the key; in theory, if I’d had a pharmacology doctorate and a narcotics license the company MIGHT have considered giving me one – but there’s no way to tell, as this had never happened. Why anyone with those credentials would consider working as an Assistant Manager for about a quarter of the pay is beyond me. I swung the safe door closed, and scrambled the dial. “All right; let’s go talk to the man,” I sighed. About once a week somebody would refuse to believe we were closed and keep knocking on our door until we told them to go away, but I couldn’t remember anybody insisting that we both open the store and open the pharmacy for their convenience.

The man outside our security gate was a large, beefy fellow with a red face, who looked angry enough to start chewing on the bars. “I’m sorry, sir, we’re closed,” I told him.

“What do you mean, closed?” he howled. “On television it says you’re open 24 hours!”

Company advertising at the time did emphasize that we had more 24-hour locations than any other chain in Southern California, but it had never stated that ALL of our locations were open 24 hours a day. Some customers just liked to assume that they were, because this required less effort than reading the posted “Operating Hours” sign on our door. I pointed to the sign now. “Not at this location, sir,” I replied. “We close at 10:00 every night.”

“Bulls—t!” he screamed. “Open up! I need my prescriptions!”

At this point I really had to wonder what he thought was going on. Expecting us to open the store back up especially for him would be one thing – that’s simple arrogance and entitlement, and we saw that every day. But this fellow really seemed to believe that we had closed the store – this one time! – and put up a fake hours sign and everything just to thwart his will. “Sir, the pharmacy closed an hour ago, see?” I replied, pointing to the sign (which also had the pharmacy hours). “I couldn’t let you into the pharmacy if I wanted to, I don’t have the keys.”

I can’t tell you exactly what his reply meant, because not all of it appears to have been in English. Some of it probably involved calling me and my crew names, and I’m pretty sure some of it involved threats. I turned to the young crewman standing next to me. “Did you hear all of that, Mr. Liu?” I asked.

The youth was a bit wide-eyed, but he nodded. “Yes, sir,” he confirmed.

Outside, the man was pounding on the bars, swearing and hollering about what he was going to do when he managed to break them down. “Good,” I replied. “Go and dial 911, and tell the dispatcher what this man just said. Tell them we need the police department, soonest.”

“Yes, sir!” the kid replied, and he ran to the nearest phone. I was about to start moving the remaining crew into the back room, which had another door we could lock behind us as well as access to the loading dock through the back door, when there was a flash of lights from outside and the whoop of a siren. A police car pulled up behind the man, and two officers got out and began walking toward him. It would make for a better story to tell you that there was a dramatic hand-to-hand battle, ending with a tasering or a beating, but what actually happened is the man took to his heels the moment the policemen got out of the car, and they drove off after him. We never saw him again…