I’m Sorry You Must Handle My Urine, Sir…

Exquisite sample of urine produced after a lon...

Pee-pee (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Dear man who collected my urine today,


It was great meeting you today. You seemed like a perfectly friendly person. Under normal circumstances, we might have become friends.

Of course, normal circumstances do not involve the exchange of my urine.

I wanted to take a second to apologize to you. It’s not that I did anything wrong. In fact I did exactly what I was meant to do.

When I was offered a new job, there was a contingency: I had to pass a drug test. I was not worried as I am not a drug user. The hardest drug I use is caffeine, but I only use that recreationally. Believe me, I can quit whenever I want. I do NOT have a problem.

I took their packet and headed to your office. I walked in and received a greeting that I am not accustomed to.

“Good morning! Are you ready or do you need a drink?” the woman said.

I chose to have a drink and was immediately handed a three ounce Dixie cup full of tepid tap water.

“Now, you can only have eight of these before going in,” the woman said. “We don’t want to dilute the sample.” I thought about explaining the logistics of the human body and the fact that downing eight shots of water right before testing would not dilute the sample, but thought better of it. I wouldn’t want to insult the keeper of the water, after all.

I had thrown away that Dixie cup when you came into the waiting room. We walked back together and, after a brief instruction (“I need you to pee in this cup then I will take the cup of pee”) I went and took care of business.

This is where the apology comes in. As I was doing this, something dawned on me: all you do all day is tell people to pee in receptacles, then take those receptacles. Your job is the official urine-hoarder.

I don’t feel like this could be a satisfying job, and I am sorry about that. I tried my best keep it from being awkward, but nothing a person can say will take away from the fact that you are handing them a plastic cup full of pee. I would have hugged you and told you it was all going to be all right, but I feel like that would have been more awkward.

Maybe there is another job that your urine-collecting skills could apply directly to. Maybe you could become the official urine-collector of the NFL. Every football player would pee into a cup and you would be the one in charge of it. On the downside, though, you would still be handling strangers’ urine. That is not a life anyone wants.

I believe in you, Mr. Urine-collector. You can dig yourself out of the urine-hole your life has become. You can pull yourself up by your bootstraps and never have to deal with anyone’s waste ever again. You don’t have to stay stuck in a life full of pee-pee. You can be anything you want.

I guess your life could be worse, though. For instance, I could have eaten asparagus yesterday. That would have been a lot worse.




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