Step by step, they say.I went to go get a drug test for a place I'm interviewing for. In my naive perspective, having never had a drug test, I skipped right up to the counter all smiles and eagerness. "Hello! I am here for a drug test for employment!", I announced.
It took me a second to recognize that the crumpled crew in the waiting room looked like they were hating the fuck out of life.
As I brought out my license and got together my paperwork, a few more people came in.
"Hi, I need to take a piss test for my ex-wife."
"For what kind of drugs", the attendant asks.
"All of them."
Looking around I realized that this place only does drug tests - for a variety of reasons- and paternity DNA tests.
I sat down and tried to dim the light out of my chipper.
The medical assistant calls me back. I am met with suspicion when the name on the form and the name on my ID don't match. This goes on for a bit. I finally find something to prove something with. (What, I do not know.)
I am given the okay.
"Empty out your pockets. Take off your jacket and your hoodie. Fill this cup up but don't flush the toilet when you're done. If you flush the toilet when you're done, the test will be invalid."
Fair enough.
I appreciated that the medical assistant had perfectly sculpted eyebrows.
(a sketch by Frank O'Meara for his 1882 painting, The Widow)
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