Dear Lady/Nurse at Quest Diagnostics this afternoon
I apologize. Really, I do. I had absolutely no idea that my presence at two in the afternoon was interfering with your intense discussion about soap operas with your officemate. It wasn't my choice to come there for a pre-employment drug screening, but evidently I'm still at fault for being a disruption. I'm sorry that I came to the window and signed in quietly, and I'm dearly sorry that I hadn't memorized in advance the layout of an office I've never been to before so that I couldn't see the clock that was inside and around the corner, and so had to intrude upon your most precious time and effort to tell me. I'm also sorry that my hearing wasn't supersonic enough to detect your barely audible "Come on back" so that you had to repeat yourself to me in a tone usually reserved for young children.
I'm just a big stupid idiot, obviously, because everyone should know that when presented with three shelves of identical cups, it's just logical to pick from the middle shelf. When I didn't do so I really did deserve to be snapped at.
My most unconscionable act, though, was not being able to pee into the cup the first time. This forced you into the herculean task of handing me a styrofoam cup and instructing me to drink from the fountain outside and try again when I really had to go. After all, you obviously had so many other people to deal with. Only, you know, not. I was the only one there. I'm sorry I can't urinate on command; I guess that's another thing Mom should have taught me.
Don't think I didn't hear you bitch to your officemate about how I left the door open. Oh, wait—you left it open and never told me to close it. I apologize; I guess my mindreading ability was off today.
I'm sorry you hate your job so much that you "didn't feel like dealing with patients today" and so ignored me when I was ready to try again. At least then I succeeded. I promise you, I was just as happy to get out of there as you were to see me go. You redefine the term "people person."
Thankfully,
Mich
I'm just a big stupid idiot, obviously, because everyone should know that when presented with three shelves of identical cups, it's just logical to pick from the middle shelf. When I didn't do so I really did deserve to be snapped at.
My most unconscionable act, though, was not being able to pee into the cup the first time. This forced you into the herculean task of handing me a styrofoam cup and instructing me to drink from the fountain outside and try again when I really had to go. After all, you obviously had so many other people to deal with. Only, you know, not. I was the only one there. I'm sorry I can't urinate on command; I guess that's another thing Mom should have taught me.
Don't think I didn't hear you bitch to your officemate about how I left the door open. Oh, wait—you left it open and never told me to close it. I apologize; I guess my mindreading ability was off today.
I'm sorry you hate your job so much that you "didn't feel like dealing with patients today" and so ignored me when I was ready to try again. At least then I succeeded. I promise you, I was just as happy to get out of there as you were to see me go. You redefine the term "people person."
Thankfully,
Mich