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7:26 a.m. - 2004-11-17


Soooo ... the new job.

It's not bad, I guess.

It is a bit weird going from jobs in professional settings to being the low guy on the totem pole at a laboratory.

The first day I worked, I asked the boss what I could do in my down time around the office and he said "Sweep and mop".

This kinda took me aback because ... well ... no. I don't sweep and mop, dude.

But I saw the head scientist guy mopping the floor the other day, so I realize that NOBODY is above sweeping and mopping in the office.

But I haven't done it yet.

Floors look clean to me, boss man.

I've only got one bad place that I have to stop at on my route.

It's one of those "home health care" places that take loving care of your elders in the twilight stages of their lives.

...They just treat their couriers like vomit-coated rat shit.

They make me sign in every single time I go there which is twice a day.

I'm the ONLY name on that list. It's just my signature straight down an Excel spreadsheet.

The receptionist never speaks to me.

The office manager sits in an office that has a window to the lobby. The first few days I made an effort to smile and say "Hi!"

She'd look at me and return to staring at the paperwork at her desk.

Listen. If you're so goddamned busy that you can't utter a simple "Hi" back, it's time you got an assistant, bitch.

The second day on the job, I picked up some piss specimens and was exiting the building when the office manager stopped me.

"What do you transport those in?" she asked.

This was my big moment to win her over.

"Usually my pocket," I quipped, waiting for the inevitable guffaw-fest.

She didn't even crack a smile.

"We have lots of employees in this building who don't want to see you walking down the hallway holding bags of urine specimens. Please start bringing in a bag or cooler."

And she went back to staring at her paperwork.

Oh ... heaven fucking forbid that these stuck-up assholes can't catch a quick glance at urine specimens that they themselves collected in the first place.

I mentioned this to the boss who said it was our job to keep the customer happy and if the customer wanted their piss carried out in a cooler, that's what we'd do.

So now I bring a little cooler in with me each time to carry their little bags o' piss with me.

And I smile big every time the office manager looks at me.

I'm killing this bitch with kindness.


After that, I'm going the razor sharp machete route.

Yesterday was probably the worst day so far.

And that wasn't really a bad day.

I went to pick up a 24 hour urine.

That's what it's called. Basically it's a gallon jug that somebody pisses in for 24 hours.

Not straight.

But every time they piss in a 24 hour period, they grab the jug and not run to the bathroom.

I don't know why this is done because I don't understand the scientific side of pissing in a jug.

But for some reason, scientists need gallons of piss.

I don't ask questions. I'm low guy on the totem pole ... remember? My job is to just schlep it around.

So I go to grab this jug.

...And ... the handle ... is wet.

That's a major "ick" factor in the job.

Now granted, this jug has been passed from the pisser to the doctor at the office to me.

There's no telling what that wetness was.

My mind automatically thinks "You just grabbed some sick old lady's sloppy poon juice, dude."

Then I have to hurry and race to the common sense part of my brain that soothes me with "The doctor probably washed his hands before taking the gallon of piss and that's just residue from his clean hands ... not piss."

Regardless ... all I can think about are the millions of germs that have set up camp in the palm of my hand as I rush out of the building and throw the gallon jug into my plastic tote with the "BIOHAZARD" sticker on the side.

I went back inside the doctor's office and scrubbed my hands furiously. Thank God they showed me the video of how to properly wash your hands after handling jugs o' piss. My hands shined after that incident.

I went back to the office and told the boss man about grabbing the wet handle of the jug.

He handed me a pair of rubber gloves and said "Use these."

Thanks boss. NOW you give me gloves.

The biggest mistake I've made was admitting that I was a decent data entry guy.

Because now, I've inherited the data entry position at the lab as well ... entering all the information from each piss and blood sample that I pick up.

This takes a lot of pressure off everyone else who was doing it and I've done a decent job at the data entry.

But ... that's not what I signed up for, y'know.

And that's certainly not what they're paying me for.

I know that in the long run, doing the data entry will be beneficial to my role within the company.

But now ... when I get back to the office at 5 p.m. with my last batch of specimens, they're kinda looking at me like "You gonna stick around another two hours and do data entry for us?"

And I'm all ... "It's quittin' time in my book, peeps. I don't mind doing data entry during the day between routes. But y'all don't pay me enough to stick around another two hours when all y'all are capable of doing this your damned selves."

I'm also mentally snapping my neck around in circles like an arrogant black woman as I recite this in my head.

Maybe it's just guilt on my part, thinking they want me to stick around. I dunno.

But so far ... in the first seven days ... I've hauled ass out of there quickly at 5.

While I don't mind being a team player, I took this job so I could have the most undemanding work imaginable.

There's not too many jobs that are easier than picking up piss.

Let's not complicate things by actually asking me to use my brain, okay chief??

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