So, I had the mother of all opportunities land on my lap last week and I thought it was too good to pass up without a good look.
You’re wondering what the hell this has to do with pee?
I’ll get to that. It’s not weird or creepy. Oh, well, a little, but not because of anything I did, I hasten to add.
I got wind of an awesome job opportunity, one that is just an order of magnitude more cool then where I work at the moment. I should add, if you’re reading this, dear employer, that I’m not actually unhappy working for you at all, it’s just this other thing is cool. Super cool.
Anyway, I haven’t actually got the job yet, so I’ll probably be back here in a few days blubbing and complaining.
You’re still wondering how the hell pee comes into this.
The first interview went very well, so well that that asked me back for the second and what should be final meeting. I really want this job and I can do it too. It’s going to be mind bendingly hard, but thats the point, my brain needs this.
As part of the pre-employment checks, I have to do a medical. It’s company policy that everyone has a drug and alcohol test.
Hence the pee.
So I had to go this clinic (yeah, sounds well dodgy, and once the itch has gone, I’ll feel much better…) to give a witnessed sample.
I’m notoriously pee shy – yeah, I’m sure the world needs to know all this about me, but fuck it, I’ve come this far and gone through this trauma, so I’m doing to damn well spill, so to speak – I can never pee in front of anyone else, ever, it’s just one of those things. And worse still, I really didn’t need to pee when I got there. Could be the pressure, could be the thought that someone would be watching me. Could be a total lack of pee.
Anyway, the worst possible scenario – I have a nurse supervising me.
She’s initially not that friendly either – maybe if you worked all day long supervising men peeing into pots, you’d be a little jaded and sour – who knows.
Ok, I’m exaggerating, she wasn’t Nurse Ratched, but she may as well have been.
I can’t pee. Nothing.
So I go back and sit down and have a glass or 10 of water and wait. And wait. And wait some more. It’s closing time, I’m beckoned over for another go.
Nothing. I can feel like I could maybe go a little, but it’s not coming out. Not ever, not even if Nurse Ratched had the lobotomy order right there in her hands. She asks me if it’s her that’s making me uncomfortable – er, yeah, of course it is. I let her down gently though. I’m not sure she can take it.
So they offer me a gown and tell me I can pee unsupervised but I have to be only in my undercrackers and they have to check I’m not carrying anything. Well, nothing that isn’t already attached, anyways.
So back in I go and..
dammmmmmmit! I close my eyes, jiggle, stare at the small fleck of peeling paint on the wall, all the time not thinking about anything.
And finally, I peed
Wooo! It only took 90 minutes and abject humiliation and even after emptying the water cooler down my neck, I could only manage the bare minimum.
Anyways, they have to make a note of the fact that it was unsupervised and that could flag a warning to my potential new employers, but I’m hopeful that it wont as a) I won’t be operating heavy machinery and b) I’m so obviously not a drunk or a stoner that I hope this isn’t lost on them. I don’t want to do that again.
Blood test next time please – thats easy, I don’t have shy veins, just the main one, which apparently, likes it’s privacy.