In the mid-nineties, one of the jobs that I’d applied for required a drug test. I’d never done this before so I was a bit nervous. I booked an appointment for lunchtime.
Since it was the mid-nineties and I was currently contracting, I was wearing a suit and a fancy-schmancy wool coat.
One of the tests required a urine sample so they gave me a container with a lid and pointed me to a powder room.
I filled the container to the mark and disposed of the rest. I then tried to put the lid back on the container. The lid didn’t fit that well. Something slipped, the cup went spinning in the air and my suit and coat were under a sudden uric cloudburst.
As I stood there, marinating in my own urine, I realized that I not only needed to figure out how to clean up and dry off. I also needed to figure out how to fill a urine sample with an empty bladder.
Somehow, I got the job anyway.
