RANT: Duane Reade: My Own Personal Gehennom

Call me Mr. Fromberg. I've had it! Since I moved into Manhattan from Queens, I have been a faithful patron of Duane Reade pharmacy (should the P be capitalized?). My first apartment, better known as a dorm, was located catty corner to the nearest location on Columbus between 90th and 91st. I knew the layout, they delivered my prescriptions to the (otherwise useless) doorman and I even saw Anna Pacquin withdrawing money from their ATM once. Basically, I had no problem with the chain. (Oh, except for the fact that the prices for products are utterly ridiculous and I've been going out of my way to CVS on Amsterdam to buy things.) But other than that, no problem, and they faithfully got my drugs to me in the time that any good addict (tee hee!) needs.

Things got a little harder when I moved to a few blocks over. I know, what's a few blocks? But my new building didn't have a doorman and I had to go in to pick up my prescriptions. Suddenly, visits to Duane Reade were less than magical. Somehow, there was always a bottleneck and a huge crowd of anxious people in the back, all pissed off because somehow DR had mangled their order. I dealt with it because the location was still close and I was too lazy to have my credit card/insurance card info transferred to another pharmacy.

Perhaps I should have been less lazy. Yesterday was the last straw. When I went in for a refill, I had to repeat my name and date of birth a million times, and the idiots behind the counter just couldn't get it together. I had a hint of why the service sucked- one of the clerks kept saying how it's almost time for her to go to bed. Oh, bless her heart! Then they finally said, after much prodding by me, that the medicine wasn't there. This was despite the fact that I had called it in and spoken to a human, who took my number and told me that they will call me if there are any problems. Of course, I received no such call. I finally threw a semi-fit and the pharmacist took pity on me, giving me a free sample until I could get the real deal. Even though he was nice, I had enough. NO MORE!!!

I guess this is for the best. Big DR has been proliferating like a freaking fungus, and are now a presence on every corner. In this process, they are driving non-chain, homey neighbrohood drugstores out of business. Normally, I really don't have what I will call 'citizens' ire,' or a desire to riot at the World Trade Organization summits, since I like big chains such as The Gap, Starbucks, Tarjay (LOVE), etc. However, DR has been irking the Queens girl in me. What if they made lovely Tru Care Pharmacy near my parents house go kaput, or the deliciously and Yiddishly named Shalom Pharmacy on good ol' Main St. meet their maker?*

So bye bye, Duane Reade. No more idiotic displays, illogical aisles or slow burns for me. I'm off to bigger and better things (Rite Aid, which is near my house too)!

That is, until I get this last prescription. It's just so easy.....

*Even though CVS could be seen as driving these drugstores out of business, at least they're fairly priced and don't have an annoying jingle that they keep playing over the loudspeakers ("Everywhere you go - Duane Reade!!!" Yes I know, for the love of G-d).