Ok so I had to go in for one drug test for work. It’s been a long time since I had to pee in a cup and quite frankly I don’t do well under duress. Ok the last time I peed in a cup was at a Waialae Drive-In theatre because was raining outside and I HAD to go and the soda cup was empty. I put the cover back on, stuck the straw in it and placed it on the ground outside the car on the driver’s side. I know…I know it sounded like a good idea at the time.

An hour later, when the rain stopped I got out of the car to go get some snacks and stepped right on the cup. I know there’s a message in there somewhere.

So I call the lab where I am supposed to get tested for directions. I have the form that was sent in the mail with the barcodes and self addressed envelopes. The woman with a thick middle eastern accent tries to direct me to the lab. “Gooo to the end of the block and then turn around on your left when you are turning.”

Now, I am pretty good at understand fractured English. I can decipher dialects and rolling tongue variation of dear old English, but this was murder.

“…turn around on my left when I am turning?” I say.

“Yes, it will be on the other side when you are on the left side turning.” She says very emphatically and she hangs up.

The lab closes at 5PM. She says I need to be there by 4:15 at the latest to be processed. It’s now 4:10 and I don’t have a clue where this place is. My faithful GPS has brought me to the strip mall that is home to Western Lab but I don’t see any signs on the well worn plateglass windows of the businesses there.

There’s a Sub-Wich shop. Hmmm wonder what they those Subway wannabees sell?
There’s a Vietnamese nail shop with women wearing masks toiling over outstretched hands. There’s a “Cash and Go” place which promises immediate loans based on your next 20 pay checks. There’s an office space for lease with mail piling up inside the front door from the last hapless tenant. There’s a door marked
WL that I passed twice, rolling by slowly in my car.

At 4:30 I call my friend at Western again. “It’s on the bottom of the parking lot, sir” she appears irritated. Good god. Where the hell is the bottom of the parking lot?

“I am sorry, what do you mean bottom of the parking lot?” I am desperate plus I really HAVE to pee now.

“Is that you in the black car circling the parking lot?” she asks.

“Yes, I have a black car!” I say.

“You must stop going around in circles, you are making me most dizzy.” She says.
“What does the sign to your office look like?” I say in a groan.

She gives a heavy sigh and says: “It’s a most big W for Western and a likewise L for Lab, sir at the bottom when you turn around it will be on your left.” And she hangs up.

In sheer desperation and out of fear of peeing my pants, I turn around at the end of the parking lot and as I do on my left appears WL on a glass door in front of me.

Parking quickly, I walk through the narrow door down a hall way which smells like a meat ball sub. I realize it’s behind the Sub-Wich shop. Great. Nothing makes you wanna pee in a cup like a meat ball sub-wich.

Sitting behind a counter is my Indian friend who has a name tag with “Sadif” on it. I look around and see that I have walked behind the Sub-Wich place to the store front that doesn’t have a door. It faces the parking lot and I see my car from where I stand. Behind a counter is a small woman with round glasses frowning at me.

“I have been looking for you for a half hour.” I say.

She blinks and says, “You are pass 4:30.”

I launch into my tale of woe and I think she relents because she sees me moving back and forth from one leg to the other which is a sure fire give away of someone who has to PEEEE.

I had her the form and she says: “…follow me.”

I walk behind her through another hallway. Hey, this place has more rabbit holes then Alice’s Wonderland. She stops outside a door with a sign that says: Remove all articles.

She hands me a rectangular Tupperware bowl. I say: “Hey, I wondered what happened to this bowl. I have the cover at my house.”

She doesn’t get it.

“Put your articles in the bowl.” She says writing on the form and not looking up.

I guess the silence and non-compliance to this request causes her to look up at me.

“Take everything out of your pocket. Keys, wallet, watch or any article.” She says rapidly.

“I have a dangling participle and an adverb. Do I need to put those in the bowl too?” I ask.

I start to remove my shirt just for effect and she jumps up. “No need to remove clothing. It is not THAT kind of test.” She lectures me.

I secretly wondered which test THAT was. Hmmm….this might demand a return visit sometime.

“The water in the restroom will be turned off. Do not flush the toilet when you are finished.” She lectures some more.

“Will you turn the lights off in there too?” I ask.

“This is not THAT kind of test.” She says.

Whoa. Now I am really really curious about THOSE tests.

She hands me a plastic bottle with white cover. There’s a “fill to here” wording on the bottle. She give me a note card with further instructions. It says if I flush the toilet, the test shall be void. If I tamper with the label, the test shall be void. If I void the void, the test shall be void. If I void the void then the void shall be voided which should be avoided.

“Can I have a magazine?” I ask.

She gives me a weary look over the top of her glasses and I say it before she does:
“It’s not THAT kind of test.”

At long last I am alone in this closet of a restroom. The water is off. The blue stuff in the toilet gives off a chemical smell. The meatball sub smell is nauseating. I try to pee in the plastic bottle …..and can’t.

I stand there mentally coaxing my bladder to render itself to no avail. I think of water falls and running rivers. I think of Joan Rivers. It doesn’t help.

I read the sign above the sink. “Please wash your hands before returning to work.” It’s in Spanish right under the English. Under the Spanish is writing that looks like a chicken walked across the sign. I am guessing it’s someone’s language too. Maybe someone who works on a poultry farm might understand it. Just saying.

There’s a tapping at the door. “Sir, have you finish?”

“No.” I reply. “Can you help?”

There’s silence and I say it for her: “I know, it’s not THAT kind of test.” I think I hear a heavy sigh on the other side of the door.

Suddenly, the well spring of joyous liquid pours forth. My bladder has decided to cooperate. My cup runneth over and I have to abort the filling process because I am waay over quota.

I quickly cap my offering to Western Lab and place it on the lazy susan type shelf and rotate it to the outside of the wall and into Sadif’s hands.

I start to wash my hands but nothing comes out of the faucet. I am reminded that the water has been turned off. I start to flush the toilet and then remember the “void” material I read in preparation for my journey.

Sadif is all business as she eyes the clock on the wall. It’s 5:10. She places a label over the top of the bottle and asks me to initial the label. I do so with a smiley face.
She doesn’t think it’s funny once again.

She points to a sink in the corner for me to wash my hands with sanitizer.

I am asked to meet her at the counter outside. I finalize the signatures on the form and start to leave. She says: “Sir, your articles.”

Oh yes. I was so taken by all the festivities back there that I had forgotten my “articles”. In the plastic Tupperware bowl I find a coupon to the Sub-Wich shop.
I look up and she has walked toward the back and I hear the sound of doors being secured.

I look at the coupon as I sit in my car. It’s got a picture of a small Middle Eastern looking man with an apron holding a large sub sandwich. There are pictures of various sandwiches. “Try our world famous meatball super sub” it says at the bottom. There’s some chicken scratch underneath that.

Hmmm…. Only in America can you start your own drug testing and submarine sandwich shop, people. Only in America. I am thinking of my next business venture.

Michael Vick Dog Groomers and Bail Bondsman? Thai Restaurant and Animal Hospital. Jenny Craig and a Fat Burger Drive inn…I am sure you can think of some yourself. The one I like best is Orek Vacuum Cleaner shop next to an adult book store. YOU do the math!

Kamaka Brown's comedy CD now available!

We are going to recommend a slice of humor that has been created for your enjoyment. Island comic and AlohaWorld's own Kamaka Brown produced "Touching Brains…Comedy for the Lolo Impaired" along with Kailua's Andy Trask.

"Touching Brains" is 18 tracks of sketch comedy, stories and song all in the style of the late Rap Replinger. Kamaka and Andy poke gentle fun at travel agents, Pacific Rim Cuisine, telephone physics, telemarketers, television commercials and more. There's a song that may very well be the solution to world hunger! Who knew??

If you enjoy the "feel good" style of local humor along with a heavy dose of pidgin english thrown in then "Touching Brains...Comedy for the Lolo Impaired" if for you!

Also available now "ALOHA HAPPENS! stickers, T-shirts and other merchandise coming soon!

Aloha Pumehana and God bless !!

Kamaka