Lady Blue Hands and the Doorknob of Doom!

--I'm standing there staring at the door and wondering how I can get out without actually touching anything.--

This morning I got a lovely surprise. An "invitation" from my employer to participate in a random drug test. Like I said, lovely.

I arrive and, after a bit of paperwork, am handed the cup.

I find myself worrying if I have enough in the tank to fill it to the indicated line, proving I'm not on drugs. If I were on drugs, I'd be worried about what was in my piss and not the amount of piss in my bladder.

I tinkle in the cup and, unfortunately, on my hand.

EW!

Okay, EW! EW! EW!

My two year old has a potty that collects his urine for disposal in the toilet but I have to dangle a small cup manually?

I immediately put the cup down and start wiping my hands with toilet paper. There are about five signs in the small bathroom advising me to NOT FLUSH and they employ the ultimate threat, I'd have to pee in a cup again.

So, I've got the ickily warm cup in my hand and I'm looking at the doorknob. I'm thinking about the traces of urine on my hands and how many people must come and go in this drug testing facility and, of course, of all the traces of urine on all their hands and all their hands grasping that doorknob.

I'm TRAPPED! I'm trapped in a tiny room that is probably so completely covered in urine trace, shining a black light would cause it to glow so brightly we could signal ALIENS.

I finally put the cup down again and pull out more toilet paper. I wrap up my hand, pick up the cup, grasp the doorknob and get out. A woman in blue gloves takes the cup from me and I practically run to the sink to wash my hands. Except I still have toilet paper wrapped around one of them.

I look for a trash bin. I don't find a trash bin. I ask about a trash bin and the woman in blue gloves looks at me like I'm crazy as I explain about the toilet paper.

Of course, she feels fine grabbing up urine covered doorknobs, she's wearing gloves.

She rolls her eyes at me, grabs the toilet paper off of my hand and, opening a cabinet, trashes it.

With relief, I turn to the sink. I turn on the hot water and only the hot water. I get cold water.

What?You make me pee in a cup and you don't even provide hot water with which to wash my hands afterward?

I compensate with lots of anti bacterial soap and sigh a huge sigh of relief. I feel clean again.

Meanwhile, Lady Blue Hands has been filling out paperwork. She tells me to sign about five different places and, gulp, holds out the pen.

The pen she's holding in her blue gloves.

The blue gloves with which she grabbed my urine covered toilet paper.

I'm wondering exactly what to do here. I mean, she rolled her eyes when I explained about the doorknob, what's she going to do if I carry cross contamination a step further?

While I've been pondering this, she's been holding the pen. Now, she's shaking it at me and saying, "Ma'am?" All I can think is, EW!

I finally take the proferred pen petulantly and sign, date, sign, date...done! I practically throw the pen onto the counter and rush back to the sink.

Lady Blue Hands is really looking at my sample now. I think she thinks it shows potential for a hit. I don't care.I'm done!

Done! Done! Done!

There aught to be laws against random drug testing. I mean, you shouldn't be able to put someone through that without them at least acting suspicious, right?