Urinalysis Or: Two and a Half Minutes to Pee

So I want to write out some of my experiences about my recent legal debacle, and add it here just for the sake of showing the human -- and sometimes inhumane -- side of the justice system. Here's how it went when I was at the probation office to take a drug test.

I've taken drug tests before, at work, so this isn't a big deal to me. Even though I find the whole practice highly unethical, I have nothing to hide. I know the stream will be clean. I think, I'll get in the stall, they'll hand me a cup, and I'll be on my way, right?

Well, imagine my surprise when I read the note on the door into the bathroom areas. Something about having to pull my pants to my knees and my shirt to my chest and piss in a cup while some dude watches. Uh, really, they make people do this?

Oh, yes. Yes they do.

Now, I want to say here and now, I am not particularly self-conscious, so I wasn't terrified or embarrassed. I really thought I was just going to go in there and piss in the cup and hand it to the guy and say: "Have a nice day." Then leave, and deal with whatever the next step in my ordeal was.

Nope. Apparently, all those years of having it reinforced to me by my parents -- silly people those! -- that you absolutely just do not whip out your penis and pee in front of people had stuck, and stuck good.

The first time I went in with a guy who I think was new at this. He told me to pull down my pants and pull up my shirt and, after checking to make sure I wasn't sporting any plasticware or synthetic samples, handed me the cup and said: "Alright, man, go on." Then he turned away a bit and made grunts of disgust as he waited. After about three minutes of me standing there with my willy in hand but no stream flowing, he said "Time's up," and took the cup and seemed glad to be out of there.

I can't blame him. There was a lot of people waiting to drop, and those dudes must have to look at, like, a thousand rods a day. I don't envy them. I hope that's an entry-level position from which they are all soon upgraded. Seriously. Best of luck, penis-watchers!

So I had geared up to pee, couldn't pee, and now I had to run down the hall like a madman to the public restroom, and, of course, no sooner was I in the stall then the stream starts flowing. It felt like I stood there and emptied not my bladder but a veritable Grand Canyon of urine. I couldn't believe the toilet wasn't overflowing. That my shoes weren't wet.

I slugged a lot of water, drank a Dr. Pepper, and when I felt the bladder start to ache again, I went up for round two. This time it was a different guy. Must have been shift change. The thing was: he looked like an almost dead ringer for that kid on Two and a Half Men. No, no, not Charlie Sheen, the kid! I'm not sure if it was more creepy than funny or funny than creepy, but it sure didn't help me relax enough to make the water fall over the cliff in that short allottment of time.

Did I tell you I had to sign off every time I failed? Yup. Couldn't pee, Mr. Butler? Sign here. Better luck next time.

Again down the hallway. Again the exploding jetstream. Again great relief and great frustration.

After the third failure, they told me I had to wait a half hour, so I walked down to Bob Evan's, sat at the diner table and ordered a pot of coffee. Coffee never fails, right? Burns right through ya, right?

No. No, not number four.

There the kid is, seeing my rod for a personal fourth time now (now this is number five for me -- hope he wasn't disappointed he couldn't take my, uh, Observed Urinalysis Virginity), standing a few feet from me in a bathroom the size of a cubicle, and he seems to be maybe enjoying it a little? Like, there's a little crooked smile playing on his lips, and I have been joking with him ("Not to be a dick, har, har," I once remarked "but does this happen to anyone else?") and I think, all around, he was pretty cool about it. But it might have been cooler if he had looked like Charlie Sheen, then maybe I could have pretended I was drunk, and whizzed it right out.

I went down the street, got two Marley teas -- maybe the valerian root would help me relax -- and slugged 'em. Boy, was that a mistake. The line was a lot longer when I got back, it was almost closing time, and they put me at the end of the queue.

I did the hop-step around the room, having conversations with the other unfortunates about how fascist this all seemed to me, and had to walk down the hall to let a little out at one point. Tried to hold some in, drank another Dr. Pepper, did some more hop-steppin', and finally they called my name.

And finally. Finally. Finally, the chalice was filled, the sacrament received, and the Great God of No-Privacy-Decency-Dignity was sated in his Orgy of Discomfort.

 

You'd never make it as a woman.

 

That was funny.

Also, when I've had to go through piss-testing for a job I've had to pee in an open bathroom in front of a lady supervisor. I've had to pee in 2 large employee's bathrooms.

I always have a hard time going when I have to pee on cue, when riding with other people and they have to piss but I don't. Inevitably I have to go when they don't. Oh well.

 

Yes. Group bathroom breaks -- is this a stereotype, though? -- do seem to prepare the female gender for such things. The women were mostly right in and right out. Though there weren't nearly as many women as men. Considering women make the greater part of the population, that's sort of surprising; until you realize that more than half the guys I got locked up with were in for an accusation of domestic battery, and half those guys had women come to court and try to drop charges that the prosecutors still picked up.

Nonetheless, I don't doubt for a second that some of those accusations were true. The rub is: which ones? And how do you keep from ruining the lives of good fathers and innocent bystanders (children and other relatives) while still preventing the real domestic violence? Seemed to me that many of the guys with rap sheets were the ones who had their accusers trying to pick them up and take them back home. And the ones with lawyers did go home. Conspicuous.

But, I admit, that was just one sample court day. If I ever get through my own debacle, I'd like to sit in on a bunch of those and try to find a pattern for the general trend.

The statistics on paper aren't very helpful, because they don't actually tell you what the alleged victims in the cases wanted. They just tell you what decisions the prosecutors and judges made.

 

Group bathroom breaks...what a misogynistic thing to say.

I was speaking of medical exams and procedures that women endure to bear your offspring. Peeing in front of someone is nothing by comparison.

 

Right! I can go in a urinal... until some dude walks up beside me. It sucks. It's like an automatic reaction. I remember at one point trying to close my eyes and think of waterfalls and ocean waves.

All I need is a barrier between myself and someone else. A tree in the park? Sure. But someone beaming right at me? Doesn't work too well. Maybe it was the Catholic grade school education. The boys' rooms at my school didn't have doors on the stalls.

Now that I think of it, I never took a dump there unless in complete desperation. If you had to, inevitably some jerk would come in and start messing with you. It's hard to jump up from a squat with your pants around your ankles to chase somebody down for throwing a wad of wet TP at you. A fella should have the capability to defend himself.

I asked one of the girls once if they had doors on their stalls and she said yes. Seemed kind of backwards to me, considering the group bathroom break thing; but then, though I was never personally accosted, you know what they say about those priests. I can see it now: two snickering Fathers with screwdrivers undoing stall doors.

"What are you doing, Father?" asked the Janitor.

"You can't hide your shame from the Lord, Bill."

 

Misogynistic!? No. I just noticed that it happens a lot when women go out together. Of course, you're right. I've seen three babies born, and been to countless appointments, so I can understand the invasive nature of the exams. We take each other for granted a lot, it seems, insulated in our respective mindsets.

 

Wow. Seriously. Misogyny? That's a little harsh.

 

I've had to take so many observed drug tests. I'm not proud to say that I've actually gotten pretty good at peeing in front of dudes. Imagine my surprise, however, when one day I go in to take my urinalysis and the person working that day who had to watch me was my next door neighbor. That was sure fun.

The worst honestly is when they get angry or frustrated with you for taking up their precious time not being able to pee in front of somebody. I never thought I was insecure about peeing, but you really don't know until you have to do it, and having a guy in the room with you who's clearly angry at you and getting worse by the minute, well its not fun.

 

LOL. The neighbor. Bummer. Thanks for sharing that. It does make me feel better.

 

I'm not shy, I can piss with an audience no problem.

Pissed on a cops leg one time

 

LOL :rofl:

That is truly FUNNY!