Behind-the-Counter Products: A Third Class of Drugs. Steven Pray, PhD, DPh. This third group is known as behind-the-counter or BTC medications. In our last edition of Behind the Counter, we asked Jarrett everything from what his coffee rituals are. Two related examples come from elementary pharmacology: no drug has a single. A look behind the counter at Unicoi Outfitters. An interview with Jimmy Harris of Unicoi Outfitters reveals how a flyshop can thrive during tough economic times. Behind the Counter #79: Helping Other Retailers to Retail. CNBC: Behind the Counter Dec 15, 2010 **** NEXT Showing on CNBC: CNBC has pulled this show from it's regular rotation. Creating a new class of behind-the-counter drugs may be one way to increase access and convenience to needed medication for many Americans. Behind The Counter - listen online, on demand topics and episodes, location, contact, schedule and broadcast information. On any given night, it's not hard to see why he might justify such a claim. Solas or one of his assistants can usually be found working behind a wide C- shaped counter, serving mugs of keg- tapped ale to thirsty patrons who stand at the bar. The Prince of the Blood no less. Gives hope to us all.. Something attracts his attention, and rather than smoothly turn to address it, his upper body seems to contort as he abruptly turns his head towards the sound. Dull blue eyes move quickly about the room before the man gives an abrupt shrug of his shoulders and moves to locate a seat and sit down at the bar. Nice weather today, eh? He then lapses into an uneasy silence as he watches the bartender. Woe be any merchant who forgets *his* order! Sitting down as a barmaid walks over he mumbles something and she nods, walking back to get whatever he requested. He walks off torward the bar, his boots falling softly upon the floor as he moves. Common practice would indicate that you turn your head to see the newcomer. Twitch apparently doesn't hold with common practice, since he rapidly attempts to rotate his entire upper body towards the exit, nearly spilling ale all over himself in the process. Some of the liquid does succeed in sloshing over the rim of the glass and onto the floor. Smiling sheepishly he turns carefully back towards the bar, though even his careful movements are uneven enough to cause the ale to slosh about. Meeting the barkeeps eyes once again he says, . Not that we're not glad to have yer patronage. What brings ye to Light'older? He rests his chainmail gauntleted hands onto the bartop, as he waits with a passive look on his face. Warm day, all that armor. Taking his second drink up in his left hand he walks over to the bar and sits down next to the two, nodding a greeting to each man. This time he thinks ahead enough to place the mug on the countertop before moving around, although he manages to slam the drink down instead of gently setting it down and manages to slosh more ale despite his caution. He blushes and quickly looks to see if anyone noticed. He slides the drink over to Lotan. This place is never empty. Barely enough room to walk. Glances off at the rather large crowd that has usually gathered in the tavern for the lunching hours. He then returns his gaze to Tyrone. The Imperial Guard forcing everyone south of the Market District deeper south yet. A flood of people into a a torrent desperate for weapons and armor to which defend their families. Following up right behind them enters Duhnen, free hand brushing dust off of his gray cloak while his others leans heavily on a reddish quarterstaff. He glances about the common room and his mouth twitches slightly into a smile. He turns towards the bar again and lifts his drink up to his lips, they part slowly and allow the ale into his gullet. He wipes his mouth and grins. He does a doubletake at the bladesman. He gives the room another visual sweep before saying appreciatively, mainly to himself, . Blinking tiredly he looks about. The bite of a shriekweasel will turn you into a Shadow- Touched monster when all six moons are full! Reaching into his cloak, he fiddles with something, causing a light clinking noise to be heard, before he withdraws a hand full of coin. You were leading the hunt, I'm thinking. I think I had one of the pups sit on me, I think. He smiles slightly at the greeting and raises the drink in his own greeting. Saw one hop right up and tear a man's throat out. I've been attacked close up by a Wildling, a Rock Wolf, and I suppose the only thing left would be a mankiller bear. He pays particular scowling attention to the damp spots where Twitch sloshed his ale. The Viscount Thayndor Zahir - - cousin of the Lioness - - was utterly humiliated in a duel by a man claiming to be of noble blood. The fellow beat the Viscount to an inch of his life they say - - yet no one has heard of the bloodline he claims to be of! Something akin to Dove or perhaps Dovo. I expertise in some of the more.. You can't hire a blade to look for someone in the shadow district can you? He suddenly tenses and glances towards the doorway. Tossing a few Imperials onto the counter he quite literally hops to his feet, his swinging arms nearly striking those standing too close to him. Gets back to refilling a merchant's nearby mug. May I ask what you do sir? He stares for a moment, considering the question, before answering shortly, . That certainly sounds like a nice job. Well good riddanshh to *hic*! It's not Gell Mikin but the sight is enough to see the fear of the Emperor's Hawk return to the Blacksmith. Once filled, the cup is returned to the spot in front of the nobleman. He drains some of the fresh drink, sighing contentedly. Solas winks at the animal before taking another merchant's beverage order. At any rate, instead of replying, Duhnen watches the cat quietly with a bit of amusement. After a moment he laughs and, musingly, . Get a good man to run it and such. I'd probably be my own best customer. Glancing to his side consideringly, in the direction of the performer's hall, he raises a question. More pointedly, are you expecting any sometime soon? One fellow, name o' Neerly, stops in to perform on occasion. Not as often as the customers might like, I'd say. He grins at the mention of o' Neerly and shakes his head. They seem to come and go in waves. He glances behind him towards the bladesmen briefly before standing from his seat. Well good riddanshh to *hic*! It's not Gell Mikin but the sight is enough to see the fear of the Emperor's Hawk return to the Blacksmith. He nods, waving with the cloth in his hand. Anything of interest in Fastheld this eve'? Once he tops off the mug, Solas slides it across the main counter to Rayk. Perhaps I might pose a question to you? That was *before* he had anything to drink! Now, I wouldn't be callin' myself an expert on the matter. I leave that to proper 'istorians. But, is there anythin' specific ye want to know? Ye got anythin' *particular* ye want to know? Well, I can tell ye, I *never* thought I'd live to see the day those two words came so close together. He tucks the cloth into his back pocket. I'll bloody well have him I will!? Thank you again Mr..? Creek, I am Rayk, Rayk Nillu. That was *before* he had anything to drink! He closes his eyes in a serene manner before finally looking back upon his friends. Knight of the Imperial Horsemen. They do more than look good in Bronze. A stout, burly, bearded mountain of a man holds it open, looking gravely at slender figure which steps over the threshold, with an expression not unlike a mother hen watching a little chick. The Imperial Guard forcing everyone south of the Market District deeper south yet. A flood of people into a a torrent desperate for weapons and armor to which defend their families. The only particular thing that stands out about this woman is her uncontrollably frizzy hair, and perhaps the baskets of flowers she has set on the chair near her. With a drowsy blink, Adria looks up at the newcomer, blinks once more, and returns her gaze to the table. I didn't see it what with all the letters. Of particular interest, it would seem, are the flowers in baskets perched beside her. He wrinkles his snout as he sniffs at them. She reaches down and pats the dog, before she realizes that the woman who had just arrived is speaking to her. With a slow blink, she says, . A slight pink tinge comes to her cheeks and she tries to straighten her tipsy posture without the others noticing. But the aphids ate m' roses, so.. Tail wagging, he saunters away to clean the bowl. She takes out a few coins, saying, . I appreciate it greatly. I am terribly sorry to hear that.. You'd think what with all the parties lately, people would be needing flowers.. I mean, people always need flowers, right? From the previous tidbits of conversation one might gather that he's talking about the rumoured romance that some say exists between the Prince and Rowena Mikin. I suppose I just got off on the wrong foot today. You must 'ave errands to run. I have things to attend to. I do hope your foot regains its balance. Come along, Gwyreth, we ought to head back to Vozhdya. There, he bumps the dish against Solas Creek's leg. The proprietor gazes down and chuckles, nodding. As Solas watches the dog goes, he opines to a merchant, . Gwyreth trots along obediently behind her, like an overgrown puppy.. There, he deposits the bowl in a wash basin before walking back out to the main counter. He takes a cloth from his back pocket and starts wiping the counter out of habit. She pushes her hair back from her shoulders and begins walking slowly towards the door. He nods at something said by a nearby merchant. He sniffs at the noble's shoes. A work of dark power.. He slowly reaches down, to scratch the animal's head. He smiles, then heads back to the counter. The dog seems content to hang out next to the nobleman, dropping onto his belly and sprawling next to the chair. Some poor Bladesman got chewed up pretty badly by a family of them. Archers said he went there to look for 'something shiny'. Turns out the 'shiny' thing was a Helmet that belonged to another Bladesman who suffered the same fate.
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