I've had lots of jobs in my time, paintin, diggin, pickin, scrubbin and the like, and even a good job or two where I just made sure everybody else worked. Easy come, easy go, that's how it is. This here lately's one of them go times, where you just ain't got nothing ta do, and any job's a good job.
It was lucky then that a buddy of mine put me on job up in hills of eastern Tennessee, said the pay was real regular and sometimes you got out early on Fridays. Hell, early Fridays always sounds good. Told him I'd consider it and, natrally, a couple days later I was knockin on his door.
Turns out not a whole lot to consider really, work's work.
'Gotta get you one of them urine tests,' he says, and he says urine likes it unnatural, cause we just say piss most of the time, 'part of contractin for the State. Fill out this paperwork and I'll run ya out there in the mornin, you can piss test, and then we'll git ya some work.'
Next mornin we're driving to some shitty little town so I can leak into a jar. My says to me, 'I'm goin drop you off and head to 7-11, back in a while.'
'Aight.'
Now, this is where the story starts to get interestin. He drops me off and gooses his old pickup, throwing gravel and shit everywhere. I turned round an walked into this shack, a fuckin shack right, not another buildin in sight. There's an old Mustang parked out front, mid 80s model with a big ass dent in the front fender. I'm figuring some worthless old fucks gonna be sittin behind a desk, reading an old magazine or something, probly ready to start poppin off bout big govement or tea parties or whatever.
I was dead wrong.
Instead the place inside was pretty decent, picked up and clean. The left corner of the shack had a door to what had ta be the pisser. On the right was a desk and behind it sat the youngest, prettiest little thing I done seen in quite a while. Now understand, I'm on the far side of 40, I consider myself seasoned, and any gal under the age of 25 with a big rack and pretty face I consider young and pretty, and this one behind the desk fit on both counts. She was wearin some kind of button up shirt and slacks, tryin to be professional I guess cept it looked like clothes you'd buy at Wal-Mart. To her credit she left a couple shirt buttons undone, enough to get your attention but not so much you'd think she was a slut.
It's kind of a fine line, most times these girls just hit slut mode an roll with it.
Anyway.
'Mornin,' I says, smilin a little bit and tucking my flannel shirt into my Wranglers. She looked up and worked her mouth, tryin to talk.
'H-H, h-Hello,' she finally said, when she got her throat to work.
'I'm here for the piss test.' She blushed a little when I said piss, like it was a dirty word or something. 'Beggin your pardon.'
She didn't say nothin, just turned around and reached down to the floor for a little plastic cup and some papers.
'Reckon that's your boyfriend, ain't it?' I was pointin at a picture on her desk.
'Yes sir, he is.'
'Good lookin boy.'
She evidently dittin wanna talk about nothin much but this piss test cause she was kinda short with me, not a word about the boyfriend or the picture but she just started right in on the particulars. Not that he was a boy, strictly speakin, I'm sure he was 20 years old, but that's half my age and in my book, that's a boy, but anyways she didn't give a shit about any of that, she just wanted to do her job.
'Sir, w-what the state requires is-is an observed c-catch urinalysis sample. That's what I d-d-do, for the Company. I oversee the s-s-sample collection program, to ensure the integrity of the p-p-p-process is not c-c-compromised in any way.' She's stutterin a little as she says it, like the words are new to her. I looked down and she's readin from a laminated paper, it's a scripted deal.
'Somebody's gonna watch me piss then,' I says to her.
She looks up from her little cheat sheet, don't smile or nod her head or nothin, just sits there and then says, 'This is my f-first day doing this by myself. I'm a little nervous.'
'That ain't on your script.'
She laughed at that one. Finally. I guess she's alright, nervous is all. I can deal with nervous.
'Well, I'm 'bout ready to pop, drank a bunch of coffee on way over. Where's the fella's gonna watch my do this?'
'Sir, I'm the observer,' she says, real timid like.
'Really?'
'Yes sir.'
I'm looking at her, and I kinda cock my head sideways, and all of a sudden I see her face go bout five different shades of pink. I don't know that she reckoned on cockgazing this early in the morning, especially watching a stream of piss from a grungy old fuck like me.
'Alright then, let's just go do this.' I'm walking to the pisser and she's following me like a dog, head hanging down. She ain't too keen on it I can tell, and to be honest with ya I don't that I was either. 'Y'all got a mirror or somethin in there?' I asked her. And then I opened the door.
No mirror. It was kind of cramped actually, sink left, commode center, and a stool to the right, all jammed in there. The stool was real close to the commode, like I'd splash on it if I pissed real hard after a few beers you know.
She closed the door behind us and locked it and put her papers and shit on the sink. She pulled out that script again and started readin.
'This is all standard procedure. First, I'm Becky Bulstrand, test proctor for the Company. Per state regulations, I'm required to observe a clean-catch urine sample, after which we'll seal and label the sample before sending it for testing. If you have to leave for any reason, prior to sealing and labeling, the sample will be considered void and a new one will have to be collected. Do you have any questions so far?'
'Yeah. You gonna sit on that stool there?'
'Yes, sir. I'm required to observe a clean-catch urine sample,' she said, all serious like. She peeked at the card to make sure she got it right.
'Well, I ain't got no more questions, but I ain't never pissed in front of a woman before.'
'Sir, it's natural to be nervous. Just pretend I'm not here and urinate as you normally would. Now, for clean-catch, first you have to clean the head of your p-p-penisβ'
'First, I think I gotta pull down my drawers.' She started to color again when I said that. 'I'm just sayin.'
'Yes, sir. Of course. First, you can lo... low... lower your pants.' She coughed, put her hand over her mouth an tried to clear her throat, but somethin just seemed to catch back there.
'You alright?'