Bein’ The Drugstore Cowboy
October 13th, 2005
drugstore cowboy | drug, stor ‘kou, boi | noun 1 a man, typically one who herds and tends products sold in a drugstore, esp. in western U.S. chain stores like Rite Aid and as represented in Sunday paper fold-outs and novels.
If only the drugstore cowboy was real.
Maybe then there’d be a real-world solution to finding products in hastily organized chain drugstores where things like toothpaste are stored next to powerbars and where the toy aisle represents a really bad garage sale. Maybe then there’d be a way to rope up those products you needed withing ten minutes versus the forty-three minutes it normally takes to find Q-tips. Maybe then, the rock’em sock’em lawlessness of the old West would come in handy, allowing hired hands to assist you in finding the three-ring binder that’s shelved in the personal diaretic aisle.
Maybe.
The problem is this: drug stores are not supermarkets. Thus, they want to offer up the same amount of products to the consumer without the same expansive space. As a result, they pack in as much as they can in as many nooks and crannies as possible, sending you on the equivalent of that huge human maze in The Shining as you try to (a) find your product, (b) find it before you die of starvation and/or lack of nutrients and (3) remember why you’re there after staring into the brightly lit aisles.
Honestly, the next edition of The Amazing Race should take place in a Rite Aid drugstore.
Toothpaste should never be relegated to the pseudo wall-aisle that runs along the outer edge of a drug store. Toothpaste is probably the ONE ITEM everyone uses more than once a day, every day, throughout their entire life. Hell, there should be a TOOTHPASTE AISLE. Don’t you think? It could house toothpaste, floss, toothbrushes, replacement heads for hi-tech tooth brushing machines, mouthwash, whitening trays, toothpicks, mouth guards and so on. There is no reason for toothpaste to be stored in between Powerbars and under arm deoderant. No reason. I say get rid of that crappy toy aisle with finger puppets and the kind of crap you get in grab bags and turn it into a full-service tooth aisle.
If you have an aisle dedicated to canes and automatic foot bath machines, you can have an aisle for toothpaste. If can have an entire kiosk dedicated to reading glasses that are non-prescription reading glasses and you can have another kiosk dedicated to small, hand-crafted snow globes and ornaments (in the summer) — then you can have a self-service station for tooth products. If you spend time lovingly organizing a HUGE display for generic brand lemon-poppy seed cookies, college-dorm like glowing signs that read “Hang Ten” and blue-light posters of Dora the Explorer…
You can have an aisle for toothpaste.
If there was such a thing as the drugstore cowboy, maybe this wouldn’t be an issue. Consumers could saddle on up to the front of any drugstore, hire their hands and tell them exactly which products they wanted “roped up.” And then within minutes, just like on the old open plains, the drugstore cowboy would rassle on up that toothpaste and those three-ring binders and those anal suppositories and those ocean-scented shoe inlays and those dancing electronic snowmen and those hair clips and head scrunchies and those cheese-it like crackers and those romance novels. Before ten minutes had elapsed you’d be on your way, no thanks to the skill, knowledge and speed of the drugstore cowboy.
Did I mention they need to have an aisle for toothpaste?
Worse than malls with their pumped in, brain aneurism-inducing, light-tricked facilities that often make me feel sick… it’s the drugstores that cause me to lose my mind. As I wander aimlessly through the entire store over and over again in an attempt to find shampoo (“well, here’s hair products, shouldn’t shampoo be right here?”) and realize that I’m such an idiot…shampoo is in the aisle with document shredders and air purifiers (makes total sense)…the concept of the drugstore cowboy makes more sense than it ever has before.
For if there were a drugstore cowboy, I would no longer have to wait in line for condoms (in the candy aisle) and blood-testing machines (next to the camera shop) and canes (nowhere near the candy canes). If there were a drugstore cowboy, I could let him or her find me those highlighters (in the Halloween candy aisle), those double-ply paper towels (next to the hair gel) and those sunglasses (behind the Russel Stover candy kiosk). The drugstore cowboy could corral those collanders, those coin banks and those cookies.
Aaah, if only the drugstore cowboy was a reality. Maybe then I’d be able to find those damn Whoppers.
(Editor’s note: They’re on the lower shelf, underneath the Spanish language greeting cards.)
Thanks for the tip on where to find the Whoppers! I can never find them myself. lol One thing I will never buy in a Rite Aid is milk. And I’m pretty sure half of their chilled beverage area is dedicated to overly priced water that not even Fiji water! And did you notice how women’s cosmetics takes up half the store also.
Comment by groovebunny — October 13, 2005 @ 7:54 am
Mmmm…cheez-its. Mmmm…Whoppers…
I have yet to find the Kleenex in Walgreens. Don’t you think it would be close to the Toilet Paper?
Comment by Flower Girl — October 13, 2005 @ 8:04 am
Kleenex can be found near baby wipes, and not tissues or paper towels. Paper towels can be found near toilet paper and toilet paper can be found near bathroom toilet cleaner, FYI.
Comment by Pauly D — October 13, 2005 @ 8:35 am
PD- Did you just get a job at Rite-Aid? Sounds like customer service is going up!
Comment by monkeyinabox — October 13, 2005 @ 9:17 am
I was just in Duane Reade testing out your theory here on the East Coast and to my surprise I found the NYC souvenir shot glasses right next to the Listerine.
Comment by meme — October 13, 2005 @ 10:26 am
I am onto the drugstores’ tricky scheme. By putting things nowhere near where they should be, you get suckered into buying MUCH MUCH MORE than you came in for. The last time I went to Walgreens for cotton balls, I came out with $50 worth of cosmetics — and no cotton balls, because I totally forgot what I came in for in the first place. I NEED a drugstore cowboy to keep me corralled and focused.
Comment by Amber — October 13, 2005 @ 1:16 pm
Amber you need one of those reality tv show cameras that they mount to people’s heads and a taser strapped onto you. Then whenever you are about to buy something you didn’t intend to purchase before you went into the store, you could receive a shock from a loved one watching at home. Of course if there is a drug-store cowboy close at hand he could simply whip you right there on the spot. It’s about control and control isn’t always a natural instinct. If you get enough whips and taser blasts you’ll soon be on your way to life filled with restraint.
Comment by monkeyinabox — October 13, 2005 @ 1:45 pm
The toothpaste at Walgreens is always in the very back of the store. If you need toothpaste, you have to travel through the whole store to get it, stopping along the way to buy stuff you never needed in the first place.
I always send my husband, otherwise, I spend too much…just because.
Comment by Amy — October 13, 2005 @ 2:56 pm
I’m down for doing away with the toy aisle, on one condition… the bubbles must stay. There is no toy like a bottle full of soapy water with a little plastic hoop for $3.
Comment by Adri — October 13, 2005 @ 3:24 pm
Pauly - It’s not a generalized ‘drug store’ problem you’re dealing with here. No, my friend, it’s a company-about-to-fold-by-the-name-of-Rite-Aid problem. There’s a Rite Aid near us and it’s populated by zombies from the land of the living dead. Rite Aid is hanging on by the skin of their teeth (pun intended) and has been for a long time. However, the Longs down the road a bit - well, they do have an entire toothpaste aisle! They have everything dental there from Tom’s we’re-still-hippies-and-proud-of-it toothpaste to 5-count ‘em-5 different kinds of floss sticks. Oooh, my teeth are tingling.
Comment by anon — October 13, 2005 @ 6:15 pm
I wondered where they moved the condoms. Thank you kind stranger ((waving –with a box of rubbers in my hand– as you ride off into the sunset)).
Comment by purpletwinkie — October 13, 2005 @ 9:09 pm