So I went and got a new job on Friday. The process was simple and straightforward. I was surprised, however, that I'd have to take a drug screening. It wasn't a big deal in and of itself, I just wasn't expecting it. So I drove over to the medical office where the tests are done. It would be quick and easy, I figured. No problem.
I pulled up to the building and straightened my tie. I was undoubtedly overdressed for the occasion but I figured if I was going to be overdressed at least my tie was going to be straight. I found my way to the correct office and approached the desk. The waiting room was empty and the young woman behind the counter was on the phone.
As I walked up to the desk/window/divider between sick and healthy, she did nothing. She continued to chat Spanish into the phone at a pace I thought to be overwhelming. I'm sure she assumed I couldn't understand her. She paused in the midst of her personal call, after several seconds of waiting, to slide me a form to fill out. I did so with a flower-tipped pen on the counter.
"Take a seat and I'll be with you shortly," she instructed. I did as she said and continued to listen as she chattered. Judging from her urgent conversation she would, in fact, be attending her friend's get-together but wasn't sure if a mutual friend of theirs could make it. Apparently this third friend's car was in need of repair and so she didn't have a ride. The story was dramatic, to be sure, but I couldn't do much other than wait.
Finally she hung up, opened the office door and led me in. She had to have been pushing 5 feet tall and her cute face couldn't really make up for her icy demeanor.
"Take off your jacket and empty your pockets," she told me. Of course she had to make sure I wasn't smuggling hot urine in to falsify my results. It was possible this woman had encountered a police raid of some kind in her lifetime because she executed her raid of my privacy with stunning efficiency.
Once my pockets were empty she led me into a small bathroom where she instructed in a serpent-like tone, "Leave a sample to this line but not exceeding this other line. Place the sample here when you are done and knock on the door. Do not flush the toilet."
She left me with my cup and closed the door. I proceeded with caution, afraid I might overfill the jar past the appropriate line. I had thought this would be a simple task but now it was beginning to look like I'd need all the precision of a lunar landing.
Nothing was happening. I tried to imagine myself standing under a waterfall during Hurricane Wilma but that wasn't helping. How long had I been? Was the reptilian-tongued dwarf waiting outside? Was she wondering if I was using all this time to make the swap for my smuggled urine container?! The pressure was building fast and it wasn't helping.
I hurriedly pulled my pants up and fastened my belt into place. Could I come back later? Does zero urine translate to a failed test? I opened the door unsure of what to find. I pushed the empty container toward the cross-armed young woman and said, "I couldn't go. I sort of got sent over here unexpectedly. Is there a way I could come back later?"
She pitifully looked me over as if I suffered from erectile dysfunction in the midst of a passionate exchange. She was undoubtedly upset her vital conversation had been cut short for a grand total of no piss. "Fine," she said. "Lunch is over at one."
She looked at me strangely and I returned to my car, defeated. I climbed into the driver's seat and sighed. All that for nothing. I started the ignition and looked down. It was then that I realized my fly was unmistakably wide open.
I've decided to go ahead and take this blog completely toward politics/economy. It's all I talk about anyway. Remember, you can email me at randy [at] circularlife [dot] com or use the chat box in the lower right.