Once again, I missed Survivor on Thursday, so it’s Peemeister today and Survivor tomorrow. Enjoy!
From 2005 to 2008 I maintained a blog about my experiences working in the drug test industry. Every Sunday I revive one of those experiences here. The following was originally posted June 11, 2008.
Just plain rude.
Yes, I agree with you that the man stank. I reckon he stank worse than any human being I’ve ever smelled before in my life. I do admit that every moment I spent in this man’s company I breathed through my mouth, a strategy which backfired once I discovered that the funk was so thick that I could actually taste it in the back of my throat.
I’ll also grant you that he was, indeed, disgusting. Yes, I too saw the multiple layers of stains on the back of his shirt where it was sweated straight through. I saw the flecks of dandruff nestled snugly in his hair. In fact, my first impression of the man as I saw him snoring away in the corner of our lobby was of a homeless person who rolled up in here to escape the heat for a couple hours.
However, after I learned he was, in fact, a truck driver who had just driven straight through from Arizona only to find out his boss forgot to inform him about a drug test that he was now 32 hours late for, and how polite and cordial he was considering how infinitely pissed off he must have been, I decided that I would probably be just as smelly, dirty and tired as he was given the circumstances.
It’s my opinion that you didn’t wait long enough to be sure he was out of earshot before you resumed your conversation about how gross he was to whomever it was on the phone you were talking to.
And yes, I do think you overstepped the lines of professional courtesy when you followed him out of the office, three steps behind, spraying Lysol everywhere.
So that’s why I was pissed at you today. Hope that clears things up.
P.S.: If you had time to chitchat on the telephone, why didn’t you have time to just do the drug test? Rabble rabble.