Just the other day, I was heading into the grocery store to stock up on soda and ice cream when I was sidelined by a guy with a toothy smile asking me to sign some sort of petition. I made the mistake of saying, “Oh, I’m not registered to vote in this city yet” – yeah yeah, not the best response. As soon as the careless words tumbled from my mouth it was like he saw me in a new light. Whereas before I was just another face he was trained to throw the usual spiel at, now I had become a confirmation of his necessity… the very reason he was standing in the shade sweating profusely. It was citizens like me who drove him to get up, adorn his ill-fitting suit, and solicit participation in the Democratic process. Yes! Not only could he get me involved “in the system”, but he could grant me the right to complain over the current state of affairs. And if there’s one thing I value in the world (aside from an impressive Anime collection), it’s the right to complain.
More of this engaging monologue...
Hello, all. My name is Jan, AKA The H. You know, Jill’s husband. I know the site’s been dormant and Jill’s missed a few posting deadlines, but rest assured she’s not dead, just busy. And lazy. Don’t worry, the site’s not going anywhere, and Jill will get back on schedule soon. OR ELSE NO DINNER!
Anyway, she’s been after me for awhile to do some sort of “guest post”, which is just a nice way of saying “do my work for me”. So, here goes. I’m pretty rusty at this sort of thing -I haven’t done any real blogging for about 3 years.
I was a bit conflicted on what to write, to be honest -I dig the “Approved, Disapproved” gimmick Jill’s been working, but I couldn’t decide which way to go. So, in the grand American tradition of excess, I’ll do one of each.
More from the likes of Jan...
Even though there are quite a few hoops to jump through before starting a new job, I’ve never gotten used to peeing in a cup as part of this process.
Sure, the company I’ll be working for needs to know I’m not a crackhead, but I just wish there was a less awkward way to go about it. Whenever I’m handing the tester my cup of urine, I always feel like I should apologize or try my hand at small talk to break the mood. Maybe something like, “Don’t spill” or “It’s nice and fresh just like nature intended.” You know, anything to distract from what’s going on.
And what thoughts are swirling in the person’s mind as they accept my cup of warm liquid waste? Is this really the job they signed up for, or is it just a small part of their regular duties? Whenever they know someone is there for a drug test, do they cringe a little inside? There is no way I could keep my face impassive while I transferred someone’s piss into little tubes scheduled for send off to some lab. I actually commend the people assigned this task, because they really do make it seem like it’s the most normal thing in the world. A person rains gold in a cup, hands it to them, and they take care of the rest. Nothing odd about that at all.
More on warm uriney goodness...
