Francie Johnsen is my very favorite pharmacist. When the petite, redheaded bundle of energy first came to work at the Eckerd Pharmacy (now CVS) near my home, she encountered a store spirit painted plain vanilla. Employees were creating a completely memory-less experience. Nothing was wrong, mind you; there was just nothing that would make you want to come back.

But under the Francie magical influence, the energy in the store quickly became as animated as a new puppy let out of its cage.

Francie manages customers waiting in a way that leaves them totally infatuated. One day she noticed my obvious impatience while waiting for my prescription. “Go check to see if your pictures are ready while I fill your script,” Francie said, encouragingly.

“But Francie, I don’t have pictures being developed,” I protested.

Unfazed by my refusal to take her bait, she elevated the fun to a higher altitude. “Well, go look at someone else’s pictures,” she volleyed. “Or better yet, go check your blood pressure on that machine over there. I’ll have your order ready by the time you get back.”

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