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A funny situation happened to me a few days ago, and I’d like to talk about it—and about how terrible my social skills can be.
It all started when my dad and my sister picked me up from school so we could have lunch at a nearby market. This specific market has little stores inside it, almost like a small mall. And yes, inside there was a pharmacy.
While we were waiting for the food to arrive, I said I was going to step into the pharmacy next door (just a short distance away) and that I’d be right back. The real reason I went in is because I love pharmacies and hospitals. I like the atmosphere. Whenever I can, I walk into one.
I went inside and started walking through the aisles, analyzing the shelves. I went straight to the nail care section (because they often have kits with tweezers and small tools I could use for something in my room… like examining an insect or some small animal I might find). I got excited when I saw the kits, and then I decided to ask if they sold syringes/needles. Even now, I admit I had no idea whether syringes were actually sold in pharmacies—that’s why I asked the cashier.
When I approached her, nervous because my social skills are not the best, I asked if they sold syringes there. She quickly confirmed that they did and asked what I needed them for.
I froze.
Because I obviously couldn’t say, “Oh, I just want to buy needles and syringes in case I use them for some future procedure and also because I’m weirdly fascinated by syringes.”
No.
I could have just said I needed a basic, generic syringe. That would have worked.
Instead, I said:
“For application.”
…
Application?
Really?
Sherlock Holmes, wow.
Now tell me—what syringe is NOT for application?
All of them are.
She looked at me like she hated her job and wanted to eliminate the nervous, socially awkward teenager standing in front of her.
Don’t get me wrong—I can talk to people and present projects just fine… but I’m not the best socially, and my social anxiety has definitely ruined some interactions.
Anyway, she seemed to understand my request and went straight to a drawer to get the syringes. I imagined she would show them to me and say something like, “Here it is—is this what you were looking for?”
But no.
She calmly placed it in a customized pharmacy plastic bag and said, “That will be 2.50. What’s your payment method?”
Oh.
I wasn’t planning on buying it. I just wanted to take a look. Or confirm that pharmacies were where people bought syringes.
I had no money.
I couldn’t refuse.
Nervous, I told her I’d quickly get money from my dad and come right back. I ran to our table and asked him if I could “buy some gum.”
Thank God he said yes—I lie very convincingly. I even started a conversation about how terrible cinnamon-flavored gum is.
When I went back, I bought gum and the syringe. I stuffed the syringe into my backpack and the gum into the bag of food—along with the last bit of my dignity, because I couldn’t bring myself to say “no” to the woman who sold it to me.
I wonder if the whole thing was a tactic to make customers buy more.
Did I fall for it?
In general… I don’t know. But here’s the lesson: never buy a syringe if you’re not actually going to use it.
Now I have one in my backpack and absolutely no idea how to use it.
It all started when my dad and my sister picked me up from school so we could have lunch at a nearby market. This specific market has little stores inside it, almost like a small mall. And yes, inside there was a pharmacy.
While we were waiting for the food to arrive, I said I was going to step into the pharmacy next door (just a short distance away) and that I’d be right back. The real reason I went in is because I love pharmacies and hospitals. I like the atmosphere. Whenever I can, I walk into one.
I went inside and started walking through the aisles, analyzing the shelves. I went straight to the nail care section (because they often have kits with tweezers and small tools I could use for something in my room… like examining an insect or some small animal I might find). I got excited when I saw the kits, and then I decided to ask if they sold syringes/needles. Even now, I admit I had no idea whether syringes were actually sold in pharmacies—that’s why I asked the cashier.
When I approached her, nervous because my social skills are not the best, I asked if they sold syringes there. She quickly confirmed that they did and asked what I needed them for.
I froze.
Because I obviously couldn’t say, “Oh, I just want to buy needles and syringes in case I use them for some future procedure and also because I’m weirdly fascinated by syringes.”
No.
I could have just said I needed a basic, generic syringe. That would have worked.
Instead, I said:
“For application.”
…
Application?
Really?
Sherlock Holmes, wow.
Now tell me—what syringe is NOT for application?
All of them are.
She looked at me like she hated her job and wanted to eliminate the nervous, socially awkward teenager standing in front of her.
Don’t get me wrong—I can talk to people and present projects just fine… but I’m not the best socially, and my social anxiety has definitely ruined some interactions.
Anyway, she seemed to understand my request and went straight to a drawer to get the syringes. I imagined she would show them to me and say something like, “Here it is—is this what you were looking for?”
But no.
She calmly placed it in a customized pharmacy plastic bag and said, “That will be 2.50. What’s your payment method?”
Oh.
I wasn’t planning on buying it. I just wanted to take a look. Or confirm that pharmacies were where people bought syringes.
I had no money.
I couldn’t refuse.
Nervous, I told her I’d quickly get money from my dad and come right back. I ran to our table and asked him if I could “buy some gum.”
Thank God he said yes—I lie very convincingly. I even started a conversation about how terrible cinnamon-flavored gum is.
When I went back, I bought gum and the syringe. I stuffed the syringe into my backpack and the gum into the bag of food—along with the last bit of my dignity, because I couldn’t bring myself to say “no” to the woman who sold it to me.
I wonder if the whole thing was a tactic to make customers buy more.
Did I fall for it?
In general… I don’t know. But here’s the lesson: never buy a syringe if you’re not actually going to use it.
Now I have one in my backpack and absolutely no idea how to use it.
