…H I J K L M N O Q R S…

The last time I was in New York, I was given the chance to participate in a recreational activity that made me swear that it was 4:20 in the PM. I declined for a number of reasons, not the least important of which was that, as I was gainfully unemployed at the time (by the way, former employer, good luck. I mean it), I didn’t know whether a Wiz Quiz was in my future when I finally became employed. Good thinking, me, because at my new job I didn’t have to take one, but I made an employment transition recently that required me to take the Wiz Quiz, the second one I’ve ever had to take.

I arrived at my local “collection center” with my completed form, explained why I was there to the confused lady behind the counter, and was given my cup. It looked like a much larger version of the single cups of Mott’s applesauce I got in my lunch as a kid with the peelback foil top. For applesauce it’s fine since you just eat and throw away, but for the purposes of “collection”, I thought it was a bad idea since, yanno, you have to store urine in it and there’s no lid. So I, having drank Lake Erie, entered the bathroom and went about the task of filling the cup to the required line. I awkwardly folded the foil down over the opening and went back out to the counter. The lady asked me to leave it in the bathroom. I thought that was odd but I did it anyway, until realizing that there was not a single flat surface in the bathroom, other than the floor, that was large enough to hold my little peepot, short and stout. There was no lid to the toilet, and the tank had all kinds of stuff on it. The sink was recessed all the way around. So I did what any rational human being would do: Perch the pee precariously, hope it didn’t fall, and race the hell out of there while listening for the sound of a plastic cup of liquid crashing to the floor.

Of course that wasn’t even my weirdest Wiz Quiz experience. No, that came in October 2002 right before I became an employee of the bailed-out I-66, Inc.

This “collection center” had a restroom with no functioning light. After flicking the switch to no result, I exited the restroom and went to the counter.

“The light in there doesn’t work” I said.

“Yeah I knowwww…” said the spacey dude behind the counter, shaking his head as if it was an annoyance to him and had been for about 3 months.

I looked at him, down at the cup in my hand, and back at him again. He offered nothing else.

“O… kay” I said, before going back to the restroom cave.

I couldn’t very well pee with the door open, as people were wandering about and I didn’t want to embarrass anyone startle anyone let anyone see me pee. So I did what any rational human being would do: Kneel by the door where the light was coming in the crack between the door and floor, and hope to the urinary deities that I didn’t get any pee on me. Mission accomplished.

I obviously passed my first quiz, and I probably passed my second since nobody has called to fire me, tell me my cup spilled and I need to come submit another sample, or tell me that I’m drug free but pregnant. Whew.

...H I J K L M N O Q R S...

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