This is an automated archive made by the Lemmit Bot.

The original was posted on /r/nosleep by /u/OutsideYourWindow_ on 2024-10-24 14:50:46+00:00.

I first learned about the job at Pharm when I was picking up my subscription. The woman behind the counter included a pamphlet in my order. As she slipped it in the paper bag, she said looking at it would be the best decision of my life. 

“Looking at that pamphlet?” I asked. 

“How much do you pay for these pills?” she asked. 

I laughed, a little taken back. 

“Don’t you know that?” I said. “I just paid you.”

“It’s a rhetorical question,” she said, smiling. 

“I don’t think that’s what rhetorical means,” I said, taking the bag. “But, I’ll play along—$400 for 14 pills.”

She nodded. 

“And what is that a week?” she asked. 

“It’s $400,” I said, getting annoyed. 

Again, she laughed. If she wasn’t so pretty, I would have been upset. But she had a movie star look about her—big blue eyes, flowy hair, perfectly white teeth. I didn’t know what she was doing working the counter at a pharmacy. 

“That must be debilitating,” she said.

I shrugged. It was, but I didn’t want to show it. I only made $600 a week. But, without the pills, my organs will slowly stop working. The disease I had was new, but not rare—in the last ten years, it grew from a few odd cases to nearly 3% of Americans. Gastroenteritis, which was a fancy way of saying my bile was deteriorating the organs around my stomach. Like many other people, I developed it after taking a, now recalled, daily vitamin called PharmChew. I originally went on the vitamin because my doctor recommended it. I took it every day for a year, but then I started feeling sick. When I went back to the doctor a year later, he told me I had developed Gastroenteritis. The best cure for my ailment was another Pharm product—PharmiCure. 

As long as I took two PharmiCures a day, I could go on to live a long, financially poor life.  

The pharmacist leaned in toward me, snapping me out of my daydream. She looked like she had a secret to share. 

“Read the pamphlet,” she said. “Trust me. It changed my life.”

The role advertised in the pamphlet was some kind data entry position, which wasn’t too far from what I was doing currently. The pay was pretty good, but the biggest perk was that all employees got free medication. On top of the $900 I’d be making a week, I’d get back that additional $400. As I typed up my application, I thought about all the things I’d do with that extra money—I’d get to be able to finally enjoy my newfound health. 

After I submitted the application, I got an email 30 minutes later. I got an interview. Then, I got a second interview, then a third. By that same time next week, I had the job. I was ecstatic. 

All of the interviews had been over the phone, so my first day at Pharm was also my first time seeing the office. I had to go to a parking lot by the airport and wait for the shuttle, which then took me another hour south. When we reached, what looked like, the front gate, someone came out of the security booth and inspected us. He checked our pockets, work bags, and then took all of our temperature. When he was finished, he made us stand in a straight line next to the van. He had horrible posture and eyes that were never looking at the same thing. His voice was deep and gravely. 

“You’re clear,” he said. “But remember, you gotta pass through here on the way in and out. This is a high security facility.”

We all agreed, then shuffled back into the van to enter the actual complex.

In the parking lot, we all got out and made our way toward the entrance. The building was boxed and massive, its siding covered in black, reflective windows, making the whole thing look like a haunted Rubik’s cube. Around us were acres upon acres of field—no highway, neighborhood, or Starbucks in sight. 

Inside, a bubbly woman greeted us and gave us a gift bag. I looked inside mine. There was a Pharm-branded journal, some candy, and two bottles of pills. I looked up, a little taken back. I’d never gotten medicine at an onboarding before. When I looked around, everyone else was pulling out the pills too, inspecting them. 

“Remember,” she said, “all medication must be taken inside the Pharm facility.”

A guy next to me raised his hand. His armpit was dark with sweat. 

“Aren’t we supposed to take one in the morning and one at night?” he asked. 

“What about weekends?” someone else asked. 

The woman smiled. 

“Of course, your concerns are all valid,” she said. “Unfortunately, the employee provided medicine is restricted. If employees took them home then, well, we wouldn’t be able to ensure that the company provided medicine was going to company employees.”

We all looked at each other. It was annoying, but I could see her logic. Someone might just work here for the free pills, then sell them on the street. 

“I can’t come here on weekends,” someone else said. 

“Of course,” the woman said, her smile immovable. “Well, employees can buy additional pills for a 30% discount, which you can do for weekends. Or, you can come in, work a little, get your pills, and enjoy our complimentary Saturday and Sunday brunch.”

A few of the people groaned, but no one challenged her anymore. There would always be complications with any job, I thought. At least at Pharm, I’d make good money, get free medicine, and be able to enjoy the peaceful scenery. My old job was in the middle of the city, which only seemed to exasperate my Gastroenteritis.

My first day of work kept getting better and better. They gave us free breakfast and lunch, plus unlimited coffee and kombucha. Since I was dealing with sensitive information, I had to work in an enclosed office, which wasn’t too bad. I had a big window next to my desk where I could look out on the rolling fields. Every once in a while, the woman who checked us in would come by and drop a snack on my desk or bring me some water. At my last job, I was lucky if I got a free cookie the day before Christmas break. 

I didn’t understand what the data I was sorting meant. Each hour I would have to sort through 25 or so names, checking their “health conditions” and looking for outliers. It had their blood pressure, dietary restrictions, weekly exercise, etc.—normal stuff you would learn at an annual check-up. Then, depending on how they scored on the “health” scale, I would drop them into one of three buckets: Vitamin 342d, Vitamin x871, or Vitamin 636e. 

It didn’t make sense to me, but I figured it was above my paygrade. All I had to do was check the data, drop the names in the right folders, then move on to the next. 

When it hit 4PM, I saw my next order of names come through—now it said 50. Weird, I thought. It would be difficult to get 50 names done before 5PM, but I decided to give it the college try. I worked fast, analyzing the data as the time crept up, closer and closer to when I was supposed to leave. 

As it hit 5PM, I still had ten names left. I worked quickly, funneling the last of my work into the appropriate folders. As the clock hit 5:16PM, I grabbed my stuff, ran down the hall, and made my way to the shuttle stop. 

But, as I got there, the shuttle was gone. There was a dozen of us standing there, mostly the same people from the beginning of the day. 

“Did we miss it?” a man asked. 

I shrugged. “There must be another one,” I said. 

There was a schedule up by the door. I looked at the times. There at the bottom, it had a note in slightly smaller text—Last shuttle leaves 4PM, next shuttle arrives 7AM.

I went back and relayed it to the man. His face got flushed. 

“I only paid for the babysitter until 7,” he said. He moved past me, yelling out “hello” into the empty hallways. 

The person at the front desk was gone. All the hallways were empty. I walked up and down them a few times, but every door was locked. 

I went back to my office as the others kept yelling, running throughout the building like hungry mice. I tried not to bring that level of stress into my life—if I did, my Gastroenteritis would act up. Instead, I sat down in my chair and took a long, slow breath. 

“You missed the shuttle,” I said. “There will be another one tomorrow.”

I closed my eyes to try and calm down. When I opened them again, the woman from my orientation appeared in the doorway. She had a tray of food in her hands. I stood up and approached her. 

“Hey,” I said. “I missed the shuttle.”

“Oh,” she said. “Did you need to get back to the city for something?”

I shook my head. 

“No, I mean, just like… life,” I said. 

I looked at the tray she was holding. It was steak, potatoes, and broccoli, with a beer, can of soda, and a single pill on the side. 

“Well,” she said, “whatever you do at home, they probably have here. Video games. Sports. Television. There’s a room for everything. Plus, the nicest sleeping quarters you’ve ever seen. Come with me.”

She placed the tray down on my desk and motioned me to the door. 

As we walked, she pressed her key card onto different doors, pushing them open and revealing, as she described, every activity under the sun. The people who I’d passed in the hallways were all still here—engaged in this or that. 

“You see,” she said, “if you ever need to leave early to go home, you can take a little PTO. Unfortunately, PTO doesn’t kick in until after the end of the first year. But, if you manage to get your work done early, you are welcome to try and catch the shuttle before it leaves.”

I stopped walking. All of a sudden, I felt faint. She realized I had stopped following h…

Content cut off. Read original on https://old.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/1gb4gh5/when_i_first_heard_about_the_benefits_at_my_new/