The economy is finally starting to pick up, people are starting to find jobs again, and that means it's time to figure out how you're going to pass that pre-hire drug screen. Pot may be practically legal in Oregon, but many businesses here still require you to pee clean before they put you to work. Even medical marijuana patients have to participate in this questionable practice. But don't put that bong away just yet! With a little bit of ingenuity, you can give them a cup of urine your mother would be proud of.
It was about five years ago and I was living in Idaho when I scored my dream job at the Boise Public Library. It had been over a month since I'd turned in my application, so I'd all but forgotten about the position. I was a young man fresh out of college, and I was living a casually hardcore lifestyle, drinking excessively, and yeah, I smoked some weed. I was drunk on calimochos at the Basque Center when I got a phone call from a soft-spoken librarian asking me to come in for an interview.
I probably shouldn't have smoked pot that night, but it's important to celebrate the little victories in life, you know?
The interview went well, and they offered me the job, assuming I could pass the piss test. After a job is offered you generally have 48 hours to do the drug screen. I decided not to smoke any more pot during this time, just in case. I drank a lot of beer and also pickle juice (not to clean out my system – I just liked it), but I'd read that marijuana can stay in your system for up to a month, and since I'd just smoked, I didn't think there was any way my urine would be clean. I would have to find another way.
I was living with my brother, Marko, at the time, and he didn't smoke pot, so we came up with a plan to use his urine instead of mine. On the morning of the test, I woke Marko up, and he peed into a condom and tied it off. Then I pinned a safety pin to the inside of my pants so it was hidden. Back then I wore boxers, but I'd had Marko pick up a package of Hanes briefs for me the day before. I tucked the condom of urine snuggly beneath my balls to keep it at the right temperature. That was the idea, anyway.
It was the middle of winter, and it was freezing outside. I drove to the clinic in my van, which didn't have a working heater, and I could see my breath while I was driving. The vinyl seat was like sitting on an ice cube. The whole time I was paranoid that the condom would burst in my pants.
A nice, middle-aged woman was working at the clinic. The first thing she did was give me a breathalyser test. This gave me a bit of concern, because I'd had at least ten beers the night before, but I passed it just fine. Then she gave me the cup. She told me not to flush after I'd peed, and she stood outside the bathroom. Inside, I pulled out the condom and pricked the end with the safety pin. It made a realistic sound when I squirted it into the cup and even frothed up a bit. I stuffed the spent condom in my pocket, which was gross, but whatever.
I handed the lady the cup and she lifted it up and looked at the temperature gauge on the side. “Hmmm... that's strange...” she said. “Looks like it's under temp. We'll have to get another sample from you. Sometimes the temperature strips on these cups don't read correctly, but you get three tries. Would you like to wait in the lobby until you have to go again?”
Balls! My brilliant plan had failed. By now I actually really had to pee, but I had to sit in the lobby and hold it, pretending I had just gone. I sat there for a half an hour sweating bullets and thinking about what an idiot I was. I'd held someone else's urine in my pants for nothing! There was no way I could pass this test. I'd just smoked pot two days ago.
Finally I went again. I was full of shame when I handed the nice woman a cup of urine that was noticeably much warmer, frothier, and a completely different color than Marko's had been. She didn't say a word about it, didn't even give me a funny look. She just said, “Alright, we're all done!”
The soft-spoken librarian called me a few days later to give me the results. I prepared myself for an embarrassing conversation, but she said, “The drug screen results came back negative. How soon can you start?”
I couldn't fucking believe it! It was an awesome job, too. For the next year I would consistently show up late in ripped jeans and faded Nirvana t-shirts, hungover and reeking of booze and sex.
So what lesson can we learn from this little misadventure? First of all, it doesn't take as long as people think to get pot out of your system. Granted, I was a young, thin man with a high metabolism, so quitting for a week or two in advance would be ideal for most people. If you can't manage that, sneaking in urine would probably work if you used a heating pad to keep it at the right temperature. As a last resort, you can purchase detox kits at any of Portland's fine head shops, but you may risk watering down your urine to the point where it will be considered diluted, which means they'll make you take the test again. Unfortunately the only sure way to pass is by taking a little break from smoking.
AnDroid's opinions do not necessarily reflect those of Erotisphere Enterprises. This article is for entertainment purposes only and does not constitute legal advice. Drug test falsification is a crime.