- Location
- Baiting Hollow Long Island NY
So I had to have a drug test to renew my Coast Guard Captains License. Two weeks ago I made an appointment and went to my Union's medical dept to get it as they have a drug test facility there.
I get the test and make an appointment and hand deliver it to the Coast Guard in Battery Park at the southern tip of Manhattan which is a pain to get to from my house, but I figured if I mailed it, they would say they didn't get it and I would have to do it all over again.
The bubbly 15 year old looking cute girl working there at the Coast Guard tells me the drug test is illegible and they can't read it. OK, I call my union to fax over a better copy. I am on the phone with my union as they faxed it about 8 times but it never came in the the Coast Guard where I am standing.
I ask Goldilox if this is the correct fax number. She assures me that she is positive thats the number. They fax it another 6 times, and nothing comes through so Goldi tells me "you have to leave because they are very busy today". I look around and me and the guy sweeping the floor are the only people there. She gives me a form telling me I have 60 days to fax over the test results.
I look at the fax number on the form and it is one number different from the fax number she was positive was correct.
I call he over and show her, she insists it is the same number. I tell her, well "most" of the numbers are the same but this "4" is a "7" on this form.
"Ooh, I must have made a mistake." No, the Coast Guard made a mistake when they hired you. So I call back my union and they re fax it and to my surprise, it gets there.
Now they look at it and say, it isn't readable. It's blurry.
OK, I go all the way into Queens to my Union and pick up a good copy and fax it to the Coast Guard.
Two days later I get a letter from them saying the drug test is no good for all these reasons, and they give me two sheets of paper almost all highlighted with things wrong. The test results are fine but it's the wrong format, they don't know the doctor, it doesn't have the proper chain of command, they are not a federally designated drug test facility, Ameila Aerheart didn't sign it, Who is Dr Zhivago, etc. etc.
So I make an appointment with a Federally designated drug testing facility and go there this morning. I had an 8:00 am appointment and the place is not in the best neighborhood. There are courts all around and I think they use this place to test the jail inmates before that go to trial as most of them looked like ax murderers, car hijackers, Jay Walkers and those people that remove those tags on new furniture that says "Do not remove under penalty of the Law".
I got there 45 minutes early because I didn't know exactly where it was and I purposely didn't go to the bathroom before I went because this is a urine test and I wanted to make sure I could go there.
Now I am in my car busting a gut because i really have to go. They let me in and I tell the girl to hurry up and give me the cup.
"Oh No we can't do that, you have to be processed in, finger printed, fill out these forms, try speed dating etc. So I say, I really got to go so where's the bathroom. She says "Really" look around. The place is nothing but tiny bathrooms, smaller than my refugium. I run in and try to just go a "little bit". That is hard to do if you ever tried it.
I go to sit down and now I have to go EVEN MORE. I mean I am climbing the walls. The nurse, book keeper, secretary or whatever comes over to me and starts speaking to me in Spanish.
I am Italian but was born in Brooklyn like my parents so the only word I know in Spanish is Ricardo Montalban.
I tell her I only speak English, but she continues in Spanish anyway.
Now I really can't hold it any longer, she hands me the cup and I run and burst into the tiny bathroom anticipating relief. I open the cup and......AND,,,,And...I CAN'T GO. Like REALLY!!
It's not like I can lay down, have a beer and watch TV for an hour, there are people on line. If I could stand on my head, I would. I am trying to think about Niagara Falls, my power heads, my old leaky fish tank, but nothing.
Eventually I manage to fill the cup. Before I come out of this closet my phone rings. I didn't want to answer it because I didn't recognize the number but my house is for sale and I figured it might be someone with a wheelbarrow full of cash outside my house so I answer it.
It's Goldilox from the Coast Guard and she is her bubbly self. She tells me that my drug test that I sent in last week that they said was no good is fine and they are processing my application.
I say "WHAT!!" I just spent fifty bucks on a new drug test and nearly burst a kidney and besides you sent me two pages of things wrong with that test. She says, Oh that. That letter was a mistake. Have a nice day.
I mean, you can't make this stuff up. Is it me? Dealing with the government is like watching Seinfeld and the Twilight Zone at the same time while you are on LSD and Rogain.
I get the test and make an appointment and hand deliver it to the Coast Guard in Battery Park at the southern tip of Manhattan which is a pain to get to from my house, but I figured if I mailed it, they would say they didn't get it and I would have to do it all over again.
The bubbly 15 year old looking cute girl working there at the Coast Guard tells me the drug test is illegible and they can't read it. OK, I call my union to fax over a better copy. I am on the phone with my union as they faxed it about 8 times but it never came in the the Coast Guard where I am standing.
I ask Goldilox if this is the correct fax number. She assures me that she is positive thats the number. They fax it another 6 times, and nothing comes through so Goldi tells me "you have to leave because they are very busy today". I look around and me and the guy sweeping the floor are the only people there. She gives me a form telling me I have 60 days to fax over the test results.
I look at the fax number on the form and it is one number different from the fax number she was positive was correct.
I call he over and show her, she insists it is the same number. I tell her, well "most" of the numbers are the same but this "4" is a "7" on this form.
"Ooh, I must have made a mistake." No, the Coast Guard made a mistake when they hired you. So I call back my union and they re fax it and to my surprise, it gets there.
Now they look at it and say, it isn't readable. It's blurry.
OK, I go all the way into Queens to my Union and pick up a good copy and fax it to the Coast Guard.
Two days later I get a letter from them saying the drug test is no good for all these reasons, and they give me two sheets of paper almost all highlighted with things wrong. The test results are fine but it's the wrong format, they don't know the doctor, it doesn't have the proper chain of command, they are not a federally designated drug test facility, Ameila Aerheart didn't sign it, Who is Dr Zhivago, etc. etc.
So I make an appointment with a Federally designated drug testing facility and go there this morning. I had an 8:00 am appointment and the place is not in the best neighborhood. There are courts all around and I think they use this place to test the jail inmates before that go to trial as most of them looked like ax murderers, car hijackers, Jay Walkers and those people that remove those tags on new furniture that says "Do not remove under penalty of the Law".
I got there 45 minutes early because I didn't know exactly where it was and I purposely didn't go to the bathroom before I went because this is a urine test and I wanted to make sure I could go there.
Now I am in my car busting a gut because i really have to go. They let me in and I tell the girl to hurry up and give me the cup.
"Oh No we can't do that, you have to be processed in, finger printed, fill out these forms, try speed dating etc. So I say, I really got to go so where's the bathroom. She says "Really" look around. The place is nothing but tiny bathrooms, smaller than my refugium. I run in and try to just go a "little bit". That is hard to do if you ever tried it.
I go to sit down and now I have to go EVEN MORE. I mean I am climbing the walls. The nurse, book keeper, secretary or whatever comes over to me and starts speaking to me in Spanish.
I am Italian but was born in Brooklyn like my parents so the only word I know in Spanish is Ricardo Montalban.
I tell her I only speak English, but she continues in Spanish anyway.
Now I really can't hold it any longer, she hands me the cup and I run and burst into the tiny bathroom anticipating relief. I open the cup and......AND,,,,And...I CAN'T GO. Like REALLY!!
It's not like I can lay down, have a beer and watch TV for an hour, there are people on line. If I could stand on my head, I would. I am trying to think about Niagara Falls, my power heads, my old leaky fish tank, but nothing.
Eventually I manage to fill the cup. Before I come out of this closet my phone rings. I didn't want to answer it because I didn't recognize the number but my house is for sale and I figured it might be someone with a wheelbarrow full of cash outside my house so I answer it.
It's Goldilox from the Coast Guard and she is her bubbly self. She tells me that my drug test that I sent in last week that they said was no good is fine and they are processing my application.
I say "WHAT!!" I just spent fifty bucks on a new drug test and nearly burst a kidney and besides you sent me two pages of things wrong with that test. She says, Oh that. That letter was a mistake. Have a nice day.
I mean, you can't make this stuff up. Is it me? Dealing with the government is like watching Seinfeld and the Twilight Zone at the same time while you are on LSD and Rogain.