
...in which our heroine overshares about a bodily function. If you've not the stomach for it, may we suggest you go watch a video of baby otters?
So...
One morning this week I had to go for a pee test for something I promise to tell you about very soon.
On the way to there I drank a can of breakfast drink (with vitamins for super-yellow pee, y'all!) and I went by the good local place for a nice 32 ounce cup of unsweetened iced tea. I live on that stuff. And talking on the phone all day as I do, I need lots of fresh tea. I slurped a bit of the good stuff down on the drive over.

ANYhoo. I thought my preparations would be sufficient that it would be easy to produce, uh, product on demand..
The funny thing is I maybe have a little wine once or twice a month, and rarer still for beer. I never do anything wilder than dramamine or caffeine. Little old church ladies couldn't throw as clean a whizz as me. The only drug tests I've had for jobs have been hair tests.
The funny thing is I maybe have a little wine once or twice a month, and rarer still for beer. I never do anything wilder than dramamine or caffeine. Little old church ladies couldn't throw as clean a whizz as me. The only drug tests I've had for jobs have been hair tests.
So why did the very act of walking into that place make all my number one seem to retreat as far as possible from the nearest exit? I walked in and the guy was the most drab, humourless bastard you could ever want to meet. I quipped "sorry, I forgot to eat asparagus last night" and he didn't even crack a smile. [oh, yeah, maybe he'd heard that a million times before]. He had me lay all my crap on the counter and go into the bathroom, admonishing me to fill the cup up to the sharpie line, that I had two minutes and not to flush or warsh my hands until I'd come out and given him the cup.
So, at first I peed like 5 drops. I actually started thinking "omg! I'm going to have to go back out there and drink some more. I don't believe this!" I finally squoze out enough to nearly touch the mark and when I came out of the bathroom, he took the cup from me and then went in and looked into the toilet and the sink.
I suppose they have to do those things, but gee whiz! No sense of humour? That's inexcuseable.

So then he said we'd do the rest of the "physical."
*pin drop*
Uh, what?
Thought this was just a drug test. I was in heels, nice skirt and frilly top. *eye-rolling* I'm envisioning me on a treadmill in this outfit, suckery-nipple-shaped stickers all over my sweating form, attached to wires on some thingummy. It turned out not to be quite so dramatic.
Blood pressure? Check.
Height? Got it.
Weight? I admitted to a certain amount of gravity.
Then he told me to lay on the table on my back and he kind of massaged my guts and asked if I felt any pain or pressure. That felt kind of good, but it was over so fast.
Anyway, I passed the pee test. But you already knew that. :)
I'm just marveling at the thought of how hard it must be to pee if you actually have something to hide.



