Post By Mad Dad: The Drug Test
“Do you need to use the restroom?”
It was an odd question. Then again, I was a drug test virgin. I’d just been awarded a new position and as a precursor to my starting day, I was required to undertake a drug test.
As stated, I’d never taken a drug test before so outside of the practical assumption that I pee into a plastic cup, I was more than a bit outside of my comfort zone, which does not include urinating into a tumbler that you’d most likely use to drink punch at a wedding reception.
But this woman was in scrubs. She was a nurse at this neighborhood clinic. If she’s asking me if I need to use the restroom, there must be some reason.
Whether I need to use the restroom is irrelevant. Or so I thought. I didn’t need to use the restroom. I need to conjure up visions of waterfalls and R. Kelly home video tapes in order to urinate into a plastic cup so I can procure a new position. All regardless of the contents of my bladder.
“Ummm. Yes.” No doubt, I had a quizzical look.
“Great.” Hands me said cup. “Be sure not to flush or it might compromise the results of the test.”
I heard her say this. In hindsight, I should have stopped and asked exactly what I needed to do. Why would there be a need for A) a toilet or B) flushing unless I let loose like a racehorse and need back-up.
Instead, I slightly ignored her and went into the restroom. A sign next to the light switch: “Be sure not to flush or might alter the results of the test.”
I got worried. Do I pee into the cup? Do I pee into the toilet and scoop up the sample in the cup despite this seeming very unsanitary (as opposed to peeing into a cup)? Even the biggest dolt would know not to flush their sample, right?
I chose to pee straight into the cup. Sixty milliliters of Unadulterated urine. Pure as the driven snow.
I chose, partially right because she acted normal, and went in and flushed for me.
“This is pretty humiliating,” I said.
“Oh! I guess I’m used to it,” she said.