The Waiting Game

They made me an offer I couldn't refuse.

And then, of course, I countered it and they still wanted me.

I don't know if I've said this before, but this job is with a bank so they want to be absolutely sure I'm not going to go all Set It Off on their asses and are currently conducting a background check on me. I also had to go to one of their approved labs and take a drug test. Now I'm just waiting to hear back before I can quit my job.

I've never taken a drug test before, but I knew I was going to have to pee in a cup. In preparation, I drank my normal 64oz of water that day (32 oz by noon and another 32 oz by 5pm). My dad always comments that I must be in the bathroom all the time from all that water, but my bladder has adjusted so I just don't go that often: maybe twice in a four hour period.

Anyway, I finished my second 32 oz and topped it off with a caffeinated soft drink. My plan was to have the caffeine work as a diuretic to help me get that water moving. It totally did the job, but test anxiety is test anxiety.

I showed up without any cash or my checkbook and worried that I might have to pay. Fortunately, my friends VISA and Mastercard had their pictures posted in the office.

I walked in and there was a gentleman in their before me, but we were both called in at about the same time. I followed my lab tech into a refurbished walk-in closet with a sink and she instructed me to wash my hands. I did as I was told and then she handed me my cup and said, "The bathroom is right next door. Fill it to the line and when you're finished don't flush."

Me, "I'm sorry, did you say DON'T flush?"

Her, "Right, DON'T flush."

Me, completely thrown because not flushing just seems so wrong, "Okay . . . "

Then, just as I'm walking out of the room (sauntering really) she says, "You're being timed . . . "

That is when I became fully aware of the tick, tick, tick that must have been going the entire time I was in the room. Now, it was all I could hear: as if I was on some sort of urinary Beat the Clock.

I wasn't worried though, I was ready for this.

Except maybe a little too ready.

From the second I pulled my pants down it was like Niagra Falls. So I hurried up and stuck the cup down there with one hand. I waited a few seconds, cut it off and checked the cup to see if I'd filled it to the line. I was only halfway there and the clock was still ticking.

Finally, finally I hit the damn line, finished up, wiped . . . fuck, the toilet paper!

I'm standing there with an uncovered cup in my hand, my underpants around my ankles and a wad of soiled toilet paper in my hand. My eyes darted around the room and there were signs everywhere. Signs that I should have read when I walked in, but I was so eager to beat the clock that I just got down to business.

Finally, over the toilet I spot a sign that says, "Do not throw toilet paper into trashcan." Which, leads me to believe I CAN throw it in the toilet - which I do. I tell myself, actually have to tell myself, "DON'T flush the toilet." And, still with the unopened cup in my hand I single-handedly put my underpants and pants back on, fastened them and hustleed out to hand the tech my pee cup.

To which she replies, "Wash your hands."

Busted.

I always wash my hands after I pee, but people I was facing a deadline here!

I guess throwing the paper into the toilet was okay since I did not get called back in and it turns out I did not have to pay.

On my way out though, the gentleman that had walked in with me was also walking out and I heard his lab tech tell him, "Just wait a couple of minutes and maybe it will happen for you."

I felt bad for him you know, but . . .

I totally beat his pansy ass.