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.
I usually feel like a criminal during the whole operation even though I have nothing worry about… unless they start asking strategic questions about my teenage years. But really, there is just something strange about someone waiting outside the bathroom while I’m inside squatting over a toilet holding a cup. It does a really good job of making me feel dirty, and outside of the bedroom, that’s not cool.
So yeah, I can get down with gay marriage and even the people that like to suffocate themselves before orgasm. But having someone thank me for my steaming cup of fresh piss is weird.
Dear Adulthood,
Hi. My name is Jillian. We met briefly when I turned 18, but haven’t had much contact since. I’ve heard a lot about you, and not all of it good. Some people say you suck the fun out of everything and require people to be serious all the time, but I’m sure that’s just gossip. Surely you can’t be all bad. I mean it’s because of you I got to vote and buy my first pack of cigarettes. And later, when I turned 21, I’m told it’s you that made it OK for me to finally buy alcohol. This was good because I was tired of getting people to buy booze for me. So thanks for that.
The rest of my letter...
Not too long ago, I StumbledUpon the awesomeness of “What I Should Have Said”. The premise behind this site is simple. Users are encouraged to share a situation in which they neglected to come up with a witty or scathing retort, then take an opportunity to express what they should have said in the first place. A lot of the anecdotes are downright hilarious and well worth the read. If you have some free time, I recommend checking this place out.
Being a fan of Seinfeld, anything to do with second-chance-responses (SCR) makes me think of the episode where George was insulted by a co-worker for eating too many shrimp. Long after the incident occurred, George thinks of the retaliatory Jerk Store line and spends the remaining part of the show trying to use it.
“Hey George the ocean called, they’re running out of shrimp!
“Oh yeah? Well the Jerk Store called, they’re running out of YOU!”
More clever one-liners...
You guys don’t get a chance to engage me in real life conversation, so I thought I would share some phrases I frequently use. It’s not that I’m lazy when it comes to communicating, it’s just that these phrases perfectly express anything I could ever want to say. I could venture out into new territory, but what if a new phrase leaves a bad taste in my mouth? What if I deliver it wrong? What if I place the inflection on the wrong syllable? This stuff shouldn’t be taken lightly. And that’s exactly why I stick to what I know:
- “Fuck THAT shit.” - I like this one because it takes a stand, sets a boundary. It draws a line. Once you hear me utter these words, you best believe whatever it is has been effectively killed.
Time Warner: Your cable bill is due.
Me: Man, fuck THAT shit.
More servings from my dirty mouth...
So I have big breasts. It’s not unusual for people to stare and beg to rub things on them, only to leave disappointed when I refuse. As a teen, the heat missiles strapped to my chest were good for drawing the attention of seedy men. I remember how pimps used to hit on me, ensuring I would never opt for a life on the street. Nothing made the walk home from school more uncomfortable than hearing shouts of, “Damn gurl, bring those juicy D’s over to Daddy!” This of course, was cause for offense. If I were ever going to sell myself, why have a middle man? Surely I’d be better off NOT having someone beat me and take half of my money? That’s just Bad Business 101. No way those fools were gonna play me.
More about 'big ole titties'...
