Having OCD in a CVS

Dan McGraw follows the corporate rules even when no one else does. Plus recs for Flaco, Christmas tree lights, and Curt Bloch.

A NOTE FROM CHRIS: I am currently out on parental leave so each week, a new celebrity guest writer takes over Bright Spots. This week’s newsletter is being written by Dan McGraw, one of the best people and most deeply hilarious comedy writers I have ever encountered. Dan is a former Senior Writer and Sports Editor for The Onion. He’s now writing for TV and Film in LA (and currently available to be hired, so if you’re in the biz, snatch him up!).

DAN TAKES OVER BRIGHT SPOTS:

I (Dan) truly believe the ubiquity of online shopping violates the longstanding and most vital social contract for all of us living in our affluent society: if you want the privilege of selecting from 15 varieties of hand soaps, you’re gonna have to go into a store and deal with whoever the hell they hired.

And in 2006, at the CVS just off I-87’s Exit 9, you would’ve had to go through 15-year-old me. 

It started with the training. I was placed in the break room with a stack of VHS tapes that would teach me everything I needed to know about Consumer Value Service. Unfortunately, there was a fly in the CVS-brand ointment, and it came in the form of the teenage girl sitting next to me. She suggested we fast-forward all of the tapes, and spend the rest of the afternoon hanging out in the break room. I was being asked to violate the sacred covenant between employer and employee on my very first day.

Panic rising in me, I looked at her and calmly explained that this would be very wrong of us. She didn’t say it, but I think she found my moral rectitude extremely hot. Unfortunately, whatever spark we may have had was snuffed out by the first tape which discouraged workplace romances. 

Three hours of corporate videos later, we were both deemed worthy of wearing the CVS polo.

The sliding doors at CVS open automatically for all of humanity, but I was ready. I talked a woman off the ledge after she learned her expired coupons would not cover 20 cans of CVS-brand mixed nuts. I explained the differences among the Vagisil product line to an inquiring octogenarian couple. And when a man stuck his hand down the front of his pants and retrieved a crumpled wad of cash, I made change for him.

At this point it’s worth noting that I was never focused on pleasing my boss, my coworkers, or even customers. You know, humans. No, I was simply obsessed with adhering to the company policies laid forth in the all-knowing training videos. I was a child of The Tapes.

Back then CVS sold cigarettes, and you better hope you didn’t need a pack during my shift. 

I had been hired as a replacement for the guy who sold tobacco to an underage customer in a police sting operation. One more strike and the store would be banned from selling their most profitable product after prescription drugs. Their solution? Order the cashiers to check every customer’s ID--regardless of age--and to call a shift manager over to verify each time.

I checked those ID’s. I didn’t care if you were the ninety-year-old woman who came in every day for her pack of Virginia Slims–I needed to see government-issued proof of age. She thought it was funny the first time. Less so the second time. By the third time we had indisputable proof that cigarettes are addictive enough for her to put up with whatever sick joke she thought I was playing.*

Eventually the shift managers stopped bothering to even check my work. They would hear “MANAGER TO THE FRONT FOR CIGARETTES!” blasted over the loudspeaker and blindly approve the sale by sticking a “thumbs up” from whatever aisle they were restocking. 

My reign of terror over CVS lasted until I was finally poached by a non-retail job paying an additional two dollars an hour. But for eight glorious months I made every customer earn their purchase. 

Today, as an adult, I shop online and skip the hassle. Click. Pay. Confirm.

A lunatic-free experience. 

But when I watch the Amazon driver frisbee-toss my toilet paper over the gated fence to my hacienda, I am sad. This was all too easy.

And then I return to my living room and resume watching CVS and Theft Prevention Part 2.

*I had OCD and the sertraline that was stocked only 100 feet away would not be prescribed to me for another 8 years.

This week’s list (Dan’s Version)

GREAT:

The Wall Street Journal reported out the story of Flaco, a Eurasian eagle-owl that escaped from the zoo in New York City and now spends his days staring at people through their windows. Stay safe out there, Flaco!

FUNNY:

 I guess I should put a disclaimer that I’m not encouraging anyone to try lighting their Christmas tree like this, but please enjoy.

INTERESTING:

The NYT had a great story about Curt Bloch, a German Jew who produced 95 issues of his own satirical magazine all while hiding from the Nazis in an attic. His granddaughter plans to make his work available online.

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That's it for this week. Thanks for reading! Please share Bright Spots with anyone you think might enjoy it.

MANAGER TO THE FRONT,

Chris Duffy (but mostly Dan McGraw!)

This has been Bright Spots, a newsletter.

FOR MORE FROM DAN: You can read some of Dan’s classic Onion articles online here and click here to check out his hilarious TV scripts, including one set at the University of Michigan about “a loner who forges a bond with the star of the football team as they embark on a campaign of eco-terrorism” or a comedy starring Richard Nixon.

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…wait, who are you?

I'm Chris Duffy, a comedian, TV writer, podcast host, and both a former fifth grade teacher and a former fifth grade student. I’m currently writing a nonfiction book about humor for Doubleday.