Filling the Cup

When I got hired at my first real job I was a couple of years older than you are now.  I am working as a temp and needed a full time job with benefits in the worse way.  One afternoon my boss calls me into his office, shakes my hands and tells me to get down to medical by the end of the day to get the required physical for a full time position.  I am on top of the world.   The only problem is that I do not have time to go home and get cleaned up.  My feet have been baking all day in my fake leather steel toed boots and I stink.  But I am dying to please, so I shake his hand and and say right after work is NO problem.   

I am self conscious when I get to medical.  The nurse who takes me back for the doctor is a small, iron jawed, unsmiling woman of about 50.  I try to apologize for not showering, trying to tell her about the last minute scheduling.  She gives me a scowl and without so much as a smile or any kind of small talk she starts to instruct me on what is going to be done.  Any attempt at small talk me is met with stoney silence.  My confidence about getting the job is starting to fade away and I am intimidated into embarrassed silence.   I am wondering what I did to set her off.  It never did occur to me that it was anything other than me.  

Towards the end of the physical, I am sitting on plastic chairs outside of a bathroom along with 4 or 5 other guys who are scared quiet and compliant like me.  She points at the chair closest to the bathroom and we go in one by one to fill up cups with urine.  I am looking at nothing except my hands, until it comes my turn.  She tells me cups are under the sink and to fill one up 3/4 full and bring it to her.  I walk in and under the sink there are small cups that are the size of containers for condiments at any fast food place.   I pick it up and study it and after a couple of minutes walk out and tell her the cups are really small.  Everyone in the place turns to look at me and then her.  She gives me a withering glance and says in a louder voice than she needed to...JUST-- FILL-- UP-- THE-- CUP-- ONE CUP-- 3/4 FULL.  I can feel my entire face flush and I can't believe a friggin physical for a job I wanted has turned out to be this walk on hot coals exercise.   I (in what I know now was a herculean feat) fill up that tiny cup without spilling a drop and present her with my cup.

Now her face is turning red and her eyes are tearing up and she bursts out laughing.  She is talking in one or two words between trying to catch her breath between hard laughing.  THAT IS--A--CON--TACT LENS---CUP.   She is wiping her eyes and reaches down under her desk and pulls out what looks like a gallon cup and tells me that is what I need to fill.  I did not run out of the building because my heart was on the desk next to the huge pee cup.

She knows, I know, and the guys waiting to pee know, there is no way to recover from this or even maintain a shred of dignity.  I can tell from her expression (and those of the guys that are waiting to pee) that I am the first one ever to make this error.   She gives me the gallon jug to fill and gives me a tiny cone paper cup and points me to a water cooler by the plastic chairs.   She is studying me and my paperwork because she has got to be wondering if I am special needs hire.  Not one of the other people will even look at me.   She looks at me with calmer curiosity, which seems worse than the indifference I was getting from her earlier.  What started out as only a painful afternoon turns into a excruciating endurance test.  I fill up the proper cup and left without a shred of dignity or confidence in my ability to do the most basic tasks. 

In hindsight there was a dozen things I could have done to avoided filling up the contact lens cup.  I now think almost everyone who pushes hard will fill up their own contact lens cup from time to time.  Maintaining your sense of humor when you have had you heart kicked out of your chest will always speed the healing process.

Love Dad