The terms of my new employment include a drug screening. Since I’m such a baby that I won’t even take an aspirin unless I’m dying, I have no problem with this at all. I pick up the “request” from my office and trot down to the nearest clinic. I never had a drug test before. This will be something new and interesting.

When I walk in, I notice about a gazillion people sitting in the waiting room. The nice lady behind the desk asks for my “request” form and my driver’s license, which I dig out of my purse and place in front of her. She makes a copy of them, places them on a clipboard with some other papers, hands the clipboard to me, and tells me to “have a seat and fill these out” and that I would be called shortly.

You know how people say you should learn something every day to keep your mind sharp? Today I learned that “shortly” is a relative term.

Now keep in mind as you read this that I am dieting. I am a certified nutritionist and well aware of what one must do to lose weight. I am, therefore, drinking enough water every day to get my camel all the way across the parched Sahara and back. This being said, you can imagine that I have to pee ALL the time.

Ok, so I sit down and fill out the papers. The information consisted of name, address, social security number, driver’s license number and phone. Well, that took all of 20 seconds. I look up and count 14 people and think, This might take a while. As I look around, I am beginning to notice the faint sensation of having to pee. That’s good, right? After all, that’s why I’m here. I look at the clock – 2:00 pm on the dot. I also notice a sign on the wall stating: The Use Of Cell Phones Is Strictly Prohibited In This Area.

Meanwhile, the man next to me uses his cell phone to call his wife to complain that he’s been here “forever” and is going to be late. I hear a funny song-type sound coming from the man across from me. He pulls out his cell phone and says, “hello?” A lady came in to join her husband and proceeds to call their daughter to see if she is home from school yet.

Glance at the clock – 2:15.

The lady tells her husband that she has to pee and asks him where the restroom is. He said it is IN the office and you have to get the nice lady at the desk to buzz you through the door. She says, “Oh, I’ll just wait.”

I think I have to pee too.

I watch the television for a few minutes, but it’s on a sports channel and doesn’t interest me. Nothing against basketball, but it’s not my thing. Totally bored now.

Clock? 2:29.

I hope they hurry. I do have to pee now.

They call a few people through the magic door into the inner sanctum of the office, and a couple more people come in, get their little clipboards and sit down.


Yep, I definitely have to pee now.

I could go ask the nice lady at the desk to buzz me in so I could use the bathroom, but what would happen if they called me next and I had no pee to give them? That would be embarrassing, wouldn’t it? I’ll just wait. I’m not a two-year-old for goodness sakes. I can hold my bladder.

Hey! There’s a magazine with Angelina Jolie’s picture on the front. She’s so pretty. I wonder if her and Brad have adopted any of Madonna’s children. I hobble over the get the magazine and come back to my seat. I realize as I move that I really have to pee more than I initially though.

Clock? 2:59.

I’ll just keep my thoughts occupied elsewhere by reading this lovely magazine, because I really have to pee now.

I decide to just look at the pictures. I can’t seem to focus on the words because my eyeballs are starting to swim.

There’s that funny song-type sound again. The man says, “hello?”

The door to the inner sanctum opens to call another name. Not my name. Damn, I wish they’d hurry up. I finish the magazine pictures and look up at the clock.


I re-adjust my butt on the chair so I can cross my legs.

The lady makes another phone call to the daughter to tell her to watch her little brother and that they’ll be home soon.

The man who has been waiting “forever” and will be late is finally called into the office.

Another person comes in, takes the little clipboard and sits down. Poor soul. I hope you don’t have to pee. You’re gonna be here a while.

A few more people are called into the office.

I don’t want to look at the clock, but this is getting ridiculous. I squint at it with one eye – 3:45. I think my bladder is about to explode.

I really, really have to pee now. Really. I’m not kidding.

I look around the room and notice that the crowd has really thinned out. Time? 4:05. There are only 6 or so people left. I really, really, really have to pee. My teeth are starting to float. I know at this point I cannot ask the nice lady behind the desk to buzz me in to use the bathroom, because I’m going to be called in any minute.

Aaannnyyy minute now.

I try in vain to see if I recognize any of these people from when I came in.  Let’s see…

Mr. I’m-Gonna-Be-Late is gone. Mr. Funny-Song-Cell-Phone is gone. The lady is still here with her husband. Was he here when I got here? I can’t remember. My brain is starting to get fuzzy. Maybe I could buy his spot from him. After all, the wife is here to keep him company, and the daughter is home with strict instructions to look after her brother. I wonder how much money I have in my purse?

Suddenly, the office door opens and the nurse says a name. Nobody moves. Maybe it was my name she said. I can’t think straight. I listen as she says it again. “Joseph?”

Shit, not me. Maybe I could fake it. Do I look like a Joseph? A man stands and walks toward her. I think for a moment that he is pretty scrawny and I can take him, but by the time I uncross my legs and get ready for the tackle, they are gone. The magic door to my relief is closed once again. Why do they have a buzzer on it? Is it to keep people like me out? What if someone has to pee? Like me? The next time the door opens, I’m going to sprint through it – if I can actually sprint without wetting my pants.

I swear I’m next. I have to be. I don’t recognize any of these people. I HAVE to be next. I cross my legs again and look up at the clock – 4:12.

Ok people. This isn’t funny anymore. I don’t think I can even take a step without peeing my pants. There’s only 4 or 5 of us left in the waiting room. I don’t know. I can’t count anymore. I’m sure all of these people came in after me. Except for the man with his wife. I know SHE came in after me, but I don’t remember if I saw him when I first walked in.

At this point, the wife says she can’t take it anymore and moves toward the nice lady behind the desk. Oh My God! She’s going to pee. Please take me with you! I won’t be a problem, I promise. I’ll just tag along behind you. You won’t even know I’m there.

At that moment, the magic door of relief opens and the nurse calls my name. THANK GOD!!! I can finally pee. As I painfully stand up, I glance at the clock – 4:35. Holy shit, I have to pee RIGHT NOW. NO – don’t pee yet! Hang on just one more minute. One more minute. Hang on!

As I walk through the doorway held open by Miss Nurse, I notice she has a beard. Beard? This is turning into a really weird experience. I want to look at his/her chest to see if he/she is really a girl or a guy, but my brain is about to explode, and I don’t think I can take in any more information.

Miss/Mr. Nurse says, “Put your purse in the locker and your coat on the hook.”

Ok, I can do that. When do I get to pee?

“Sign right here.”

Ok, done. Pee?

He/She then says, “Do you have anything in your pockets?”

I say, “No, I don’t have any pockets.” When do I get to pee?

He/She draws a line on a cup and says, “Fill it up to here,” pointing to the line.

No problem. I probably can give you more if you want, but it has to be NOW.
He/She then continues, “Go in there,” pointing to the bathroom, “and don’t flush when you are through.”

“Ok,” I said.

Give me the freakin’ cup lady…man…whatever! I have to pee RIGHT NOW!!!

I grab the cup from her wretched little boy/girl hand and go into the bathroom. Yep, today I wore the pants with 14 zillion buttons to undo. Crap! Buttons. Hurry. Fingers aren’t working fast enough. Hurry. Stupid buttons. Maybe I should just rip them off. I can sew them on again later, right? Relief is right there if you would just freakin’ hurry, for god’s sake.

I sit down and realize I don’t really give a flyin’ hoot about the drug test, but I figure I better catch some in the cup, up to the line, ya know, just cuz I’m here and all.

Did you ever have to go to the bathroom so bad that when you finally did, it felt like you had an orgasm? That was the best pee EVER! Do you think they’d get upset if I lit up a cigarette right here, right now?

Now, what did she say about flushing? I don’t think I was listening at that point. I notice a sign on the wall, “Do Not Flush After Donating – Nurse Will Flush For You.” Oh. Thank goodness that’s there. Ok, I won’t flush. I wondered about the people using their cell phones in front of the No Cell Phone sign. They’d probably flush, but not me. No sir. I can actually follow directions.

I emerge from my orgasmic pee and give Miss/Mr. Nurse my cup and she/he has me sign something else. Thank god that’s over. I’m almost crying with joy. I can’t wait to get out of there.

On the way out, they give me a piece of paper to give to my employer.

That’s it? No sucker or lollypop or anything? I sit here in agony for two and a half hours, and all I get is a piece of paper? You people suck.

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