Search and seizure
As some of you know, I work at a casino. For those of you who make think is fun, allow me to ram a steel rod through your gall bladder and then ask you how much fun that was. After I get some sort of bloody gurgle from you, I'll remove the rod then impale you in your pancreas and ask you the same question. Rinse. Lather. Repeat.Indiana law states that in order to work in a casino, you must pass a drug test. Fine and dandy. I'm not a joker. I'm not a smoker. I'm not a midnight toker. Pass the test with flying colors. Except for green. They didn't find the green. Hence the reason I have a job. Hadn't heard about it since.
Tonight, I get a call over the radio.
[S1]Bossman: McCray, I need to see you in my office.
Lemme give you a rundown on the last few times I've received that call:
Reprimanded for an offense.
Sign a form about emergency contacts.
Reprimanded about my hair.
Reprimanded for the same offense that happened on a different occasion before the initial reprimand.
Yeah, I kinda shook my head on that last one too. But I hate the job so I don't really care. Anyway, you see why receiving that call is usually not a good one. But at least it gets me out of work for an undetermined amount of time.
So I walk into the office.
McCray: So what part of my life am I signing away today, bossman? Am I being forced to donate a kidney?
[S1] Bossman: No, but you're close. That's disgusting, by the way.
McCray: I'm...close?
[S1] Bossman: Random drug test. Sign this paper and take in downstairs within 5 minutes.
*Stares at paper.*
McCray: You realize that you saw me walking out of the restroom 15 minutes ago, right?
[S1] Bossman: *Sigh* Yes...you don't have to go right now, but you still have to report downstairs.
So downstairs I go. And I get in line. I get in a very long line. It appears as though I'm not the only untrustworthy individual in the casino. Glass of water in hand, I begin drinking.
Incidentally, the last time I remember seeing a pop quiz happen like this was April 21st. I noted the irony, had a little laugh and walked away that time. This time was a bit different.
So I'm standing in line. Water being passed back and forth like that inane bottles of beer on the wall. After moving in line about 5 feet, I look back.
Wouldn't you know it...a test that not even management can weasel out of.
McCray: Hiya [S1] Blondie! I didn't expect to see you down here!
She's another one of my bosses. And she was not amused. Also, she was not talking.
Drudge 10 more feet.
[S1] Blondie: I really got to go...now...
Here I am. Dilemna before me. Do I allow her to get ahead of me so I can earn those precious brownie points to save when I want to throw a guest overboard, or allow her to get ahead of me so that I can waste even more precious time not doing work.
I chose the third option. I let her go ahead of me because I'm such a sweet and innocent soul. Pft BWA HA HA!!!! Yeah...I couldn't keep a straight face either.
Move another 5 feet.
By this time, I finally reach the test administrator. Time in transit: 30 minutes.
McCray: Does this mean I failed the test?
*grunt*
McCray: You have an awesome job, has anyone ever told you that?
*more grunting*
He's points to where I need to sign...to initial...to date...to sign over ownership of any cattle to be sacrificed the dark lord of beauraucratic ineptitude. Joke's on him. I already signed them over to the goddess of green lights and speed limits. I'm still waiting to here back on that one...stupid old people driving 40 on a 55mph speed limit road...
After much signing and carpal tunnel beginnings, I waited in the next line to pee in yonder cup.
There was a holding pen for those who were tapped to contribute, but could not muster the...juices. I considered joining that crowd, if even for just a bit, but I decided that I had what it took.
Bypassing the graphic scenes, I'll just say that I made the cut. Even if just barely. I wash my hands and head out. Elapsed time: 60 boring yet workless minutes.
About this time, it's quittin' time. Time to pack up and head home. Yeehaw.
I walk into slot HQ ready to put my supplies away.
[S1] Blondie: So were you able to push it out?
I will admit this is not the first time she's stunned me an almost inappropriate comment. But I have a sense of humor, so I fire back.
McCray: 4th and goal...one more push and I was able to get it over the line! I scored!!!
She didn't even flinch. I must work harder.
So the moral of the story, kiddies, is to not work in a casino.
Wait...is that right?
Yup. No worky in casino. Go have a beer, foo'.
posted by ClanMcCray(Qimac) @ 1:35 AM
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