Monday, January 19, 2009

THE HOOPS THROUGH WHICH ONE MUST JUMP

Well, Dawn from work called me today. It seems as though I have been cleared to go back to work; my suspension is near its end. I'll tell you what: it's just in time. I've been crawling the walls these last several days. I need to be doing something, damn it, to feel of any use, whatsoever. I've been feeling decidely bummish.

First things first, though; I had to go to Kingswood Medical Center to drop a urine sample and to blow into the fucking breathalyzer. I blew into the little white plastic nozzle (Vickie the nurse explained to me how to do it--um, I know how, bee-yotch, I'm a professional at this) and the results were a beautiful .000. As they should have been.

And then it was on to the piss-test. I'd previously been told that there would be a doctor in there with me--his job was to make sure that I'd not have a Whizzinator taped next to my package. "He's not going to, like, watch me go, is he?" I'd asked. "I mean, he's gonna be in the room, but is he going to be, like, right there?" The woman answered that because of the reason that I was there and per my company's request, yes, he'd be watching me urinate. Sah-weet.

Well, I reminded myself, I'd been the one who had put myself in this situation so if I had a problem with it, I could bring it up with Drunk Adam. Drunk Adam hasn't been answering the telephone, lately, so it's unlikely that my complaint would be heard. And, even if it were heard, nothing much would be done about it. Drunk Adam's usual response is, "Meh, fuggit. Pass the Guinness or get the fuck outta my way."

Anyway, on to the piss-test. Doctor C_____ was the lucky individual who drew the the short straw and got to see my penis. In all it's nervous-to-be-looked-at-in-the-men's-room glory. "Um," I said as I unzipped my pants and pulled out my monster, "this is a little awkward, huh?" The doctor didn't say anything. I said to the silence, "Well, I put myself into this situation, so...." Doctor C_____ said, "Did you?" and moved closer to my side. "Um, yeah." "Well, you did," he said.

Silence ensued. Somewhere, a cricket rubbed its wings together.

My penis was having some serious stage-fright. Usually, in the men's room, great pains are taken to avoid even the intimation that junk could be being scoped. My boy Babar wasn't used to such unabashed scrutiny. Eventually, though, the pumps kicked in and the five Dixie cups of water that I'd slammed before the "test" made their way through my plumbing and splashed down into the cup, with the remaining fluid calling home the chemically-blue waters of the medical center's toilet. Doctor C_____ reminded me not to flush. "I know it's a habit, but...."

Right, Doc. I am a criminal and I should be treated as such. No flushie-flushie, and my dick is under the microscope. I know. Intellectually, I know why the rules are as such: my company is paying me to be at work sober and I have had an assuredly rotten track record of compliance. They have their asses to cover and they have to be sure that I am not an employee of the disingenuous variety, intent upon "sticking it to the company."

Still, though, the whole matter was a little humiliating. Fuck it. It is what it is. I'm over it. Well, maybe not completely over it. In a small act of childish belligerence, I shook off extra long for the good doctor's benefit: you wanna look at my cock? You're getting paid to look at my cock? Here it is. Get a good look at it. I'll not be back again. (Er, except for the times in the future in which I'll be sent to the clinic for the random drug tests. Um, forget I said anything, Doctor C_____. You're a swell dude. And you do a great job. Um, looking at penises.)

I sure hope that they don't pick up any of the heroin in my system. Smack, horse, the Big H--it's a tough habit to kick. As is meth. As is weed. Bennies are no fun to stop, either. Nor is coke and opium and 'shrooms.

:-\

10 comments:

The Girl You Don't Bring Home to Momma said...

Ah, damn I'm in the wrong freaking field. How do I get his job !!!! Just kidding. Glad you getting back to work, nothing like some paychecks to make your world feel better. I'm so proud of you !!!!

Jay said...

Good job getting through this and getting back to work dude!

I always thought it would be cool to be a doctor. Except not THAT doctor. LOL

caleal said...

I bet he didn't draw the short straw. I bet he volunteered... wink wink, nudge nudge.

Melissa said...

Hoops are hoops, but you're almost through! When are you back?

Valley Girl said...

I know how you feel. For some reason when I pee in the women's room and its dead quiet in there and there's another girl trying to pee at the same time, I always feel weird and can't pee. =(

Adamity_Bomb_Bomb said...

Thanks, Girl. =o) And, regarding McNabb, I wasn't being a traitor, I just think that he has gotten the short end of the stick to many times. :-)

LOL Jay.

Uh-oh, Caleal! Maybe he did! :-O

End of the week, most likely, Missy.

Hi, Valley Girl. I think it's called paraurethrus, or some shee-ot like that. ;-) Paralysis of the urethrea. That silence is often comveniently broken by the clearing of one's throat or a well-timed sniff. :-P

Frank said...

I had to give a piss test once...it's one thing to have someone at the urinal next to you give a little glance, but having a doctor STARE at you while you go...fuckin' awful. Sorry you had to go through that :-/

Suldog said...

Yuck. No matter what you did, that sucks big hairy donkey. I thank God I have never worked anywhere that required a drug test. I'd pass with flying colors now, but still, the principle...

Adamity_Bomb_Bomb said...

Hell, Frank, I put myself in the situation I found myself. Had I not been a bad boy, I not have had to go through the "indignity." The Doc was just doing what he had to do; I hold no ill-will towards anyone. As for myself, my rule in Pissing at the Urinal Dos-and-Don'ts is to look forward at the wall as though it is the gosh damn-most interesting thing on God's green earth. :-)

Suldog: A little drunk-on-the-job-from-the-night-before action. Not proud of it, no, but I've actually been more residually drunk than this time: it's just this time, I smelled more booze-y and the company is doing what it needs to do and is cracking down on it. It ain;t like the old days (before I worked there) when people would bring beer to the job. Not sure that I would have done that, even if I could have. Natural gas and intoxication? Not a very good mix! :-P The company is just practicing their own CYA, and I don't blame them in the least. It was just kind of an awkward situation. =o)

JenBun said...

Hooray pee-pee tests! And still having your job... :)