I did not "miss" the Bucs game.

Thanksgiving day, and I'm sitting in the living room with my cousin and my brother, and we're watching Titanic. Polite banter is passed back and forth about the movie. Cool special effects are pointed out. The soundtrack is made fun of. We're not watching the movie so much as using it as an excuse for conversation.

An uncle walks in the room and laments, "Oh man, I can't believe you guys aren't watching the game!"

Why on earth would I want to watch "the game" when there's a perfectly good movie on?

Quite frequently someone will come into the pee clinic and attempt to start conversation about whatever sports season it is. "Did I see last night's game?" No, I didn't. "Oh man, you missed a good one!" Can't very well miss something I didn't try to catch.

I see this hurt look in their eyes when I tell them I don't follow sports. Some people stare at me as though I'm an alien creature, altogether new and strange in a world they thought they knew. Some look as though they take offense, as though foot/base/basketball is a device that is hooked directly into their heart, and my dismissal of the practice served to interrupt the flow of blood to their brain.

Some simply don't comprehend my point at all.

"Oh, not a Bucs fan, huh?" No, not really. "Then who do you like?" What do you mean? "Which team do you like?" I don't really like any of them. "Come on, you gotta root for someone." I don't like football. "Oh. Baseball, then?"

It's not as though I have some kind of overt anti-sports agenda. I mean, I do, but I don't push it down anyone's throat. I just try to take a polite exit out of the conversation and leave it at that. Just about everyone agrees that politics and religion are off-limits as far as discussions between strangers... but apparently rejecting chitchat about sports is sacrelige.

I suppose I understand what's going on here. People want smalltalk, but they don't know me so they don't know what to talk about. This is true for everyone. That's why the first thing out of everyone's mouth when they talk to you in the line at the bank is the weather. Everyone deals with the weather. Everyone can talk about that. Even the most socially deficient rock-troglodyte can admit that, yeah, it's been pretty windy lately.

Once weather is covered (which, in Florida, means the conversation is either about how "hot" or "very hot" it is), the next logical topic is sports. That's usually the one place you can find common ground with just about anyone without offending them or making assumptions about them. I imagine when people hear "I don't like sports" something in their brain shuts down and they refuse to believe it.

People see my PS2 and ask if I picked up Madden '06 yet. "No," I reply. "I prefer to spend my money on good games." And I have to wonder what the game shelf at the guy's house looks like. Does he really just have this huge string of football games, each one slightly nicer looking than the last, with a new year tacked onto the title? How many football games do you have to watch before they all start to look the same?

When people complain about the lack of variety in my magazines (they're all sports and car magazines) I point out that I used to have subscriptions to Wired and Skeptical Inquirer and Game Informer, but people kept stealing them. So either everyone already has the most recent Sports Illustrated, or nobody cares about it enough to steal it. (I could put a joke here about the stereotypical sports fan not being able to read, but that would make me look like a real prick, so I won't.)

After Thanksgiving dinner was over and everyone kind of shuffled off into their own little clique somewhere, I peeked in on that weird old uncle I mentioned earlier. He was sitting in the living room, alone, watching his game. And they say I'm the most anti-social person in the family.

It's not that I try to avoid conversation at any cost. Just ask the guy who struck up a conversation about World of Warcraft... we must have chattered for half an hour before either of us remembered there was a drug test he was supposed to take.

And I thought it was going to be slow today.

The dirtiest man I've ever seen in my life comes stomping into my office. The soiled shirt he's wearing bears the company logo of one of my clients, and he speaks with a thick European accent that I cannot identify. He looks excrutiatingly unhappy.

"Good morn--"

"I need to see Nina."

"...who?"

"Nina."

"I don't know anyone named Nina."

"Are you Nina?"

"No."

"Go get him."

"Sir, nobody works here named Nina."

"This place... is for drug testing?"

"Yes sir."

"Go get Nina."

"Sir, I'm the only person who works in this office."

"Go get your manager."

"I'll be happy to get him on the phone for you."

"No, go get him."

"He doesn't work at this office."

"Go in the back and get him."

"Sir, there's nobody in the back."

"See that car? That car right out there?"

"The red one?"

"That is Nina's car."

"It's very nice."

"So go get Nina!"

"Sir, I don't know who Nina is. He isn't here."

"That is Nina's car!"

"I'll take your word for it."

"You drug test here?"

"Yes, I do."

"And Nina's not here?"

"No, he's not."

"But that's his car?"

"I wouldn't know."

And with that, the man slams his fist on the counter, grunts loudly, and then storms out, slamming the door.

Whomever Nina is, and wherever he's hiding, I would suggest he stays there.

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone.

Flimsy little strips.

It can be uncomfortable -- even absurd -- to know that sometimes a crucial element in your life rests on something so tiny and flimsy as a temperature sticker. A piece of paper which changes color when it warms up. Essentially, a series of tiny mood rings glued to the side of a plastic cup. It's ridiculous.

But, there it is.

The job of the temperature sticker is to give a handy visual display whenever a sample is too hot or too cold. The idea is that the inside of a human body is of a certain temperature, and anything that comes out of the human body will likewise be of a similar temperature. If it's too cold, it means the sample was likely sneaked in from outside. If it's too hot, it means the cheater was at least smart enough to spin it in a microwave first.

Or, it could mean the temperature sticker is acting up.

A call from my boss. "A guy is going to come in for a DOT test. He already walked out on one collection because he says the temperature sticker was broken." That's bad news. Walking out on a DOT collection means you could lose your commercial driver's license -- and therefore your job. My boss continues: "I told him to go over there and do another collection. I don't know if it will do him any good, but it's not like he has anything to lose at this point."

Make no mistake, this guy is already screwed. That other lab, whomever they are, have to report a cold sample for any DOT collection. The specifics aren't important; basically what it means is that the lab has to file some paperwork saying that So-and-so refused to take a drug test. The cold sample will be sent to the lab and scrutinized. Maybe it's unfair, but this guy is now in so much more trouble because he tried to cheat and then refused a retest than he would be in had he just gotten caught with pot in his system.

Let me put it this way. A positive result might have gotten him fired, but he could then go find work in his field elsewhere. A refusal to test means no more license -- which means no more getting hired anywhere.

The way I understand it, when you get a commercial driver's license your name goes on a list. Your employer by federal law has to drug test half his employees every year. Now, these test results are randomly audited. If a file gets pulled and looked and it says So-and-so refused to test, that employer gets a call. If So-and-so is still working there, the employer gets slapped with a hefty fine. It's not in an employer's best interests to go to the mat for you on this, and it's been my experience that they are not sympathetic.

When So-and-so shows up, I can tell right away he's not going to try and pull anything. He's had a long conversation with my boss. He realizes exactly where he messed up and now he's got the look of a chased deer in his eyes. He asks lots and lots of questions. He asks if I think it's fair if I lose my job because of a drug test. Which, of course, I do. And anyway it doesn't apply to me. For one, I don't have a commercial driver's license and for another, I don't do drugs.

He asks lots of other things. Oh, the other guys didn't make me wash my hands before I went in. Does that invalidate the test? "Well, no. It just means different companies have different procedures."

The other guys asked for a list of medications. Why haven't you? "Well, I don't have any medical training. Maybe their collector did."

He asks if he can be present during the actual test. "You'll have to call the lab and ask them."

And finally, he asks about the flimsy temperature strips. He asks what percentage of them don't read correctly.

"Honestly," I reply, "I've never seen one not work."

And that's the truth.

Tiny, stupid little pieces of black paper. But they're perfectly reliable -- at least in my experience.

I know sometimes people come in here and break the rules. And they get away with it. And I don't mind that. But sometimes people come in and the rules break them instead. Even giving this So-and-so guy the benefit of the doubt... let's say that first strip was broken. He still walked out. He still slipped up. He's still out of luck.

He'll lose his job and probably his license, all because of a little strip of paper that changes colors when it warms up.

If you don't know the difference between a DOT drug test and a regular drug test, don't worry. That just means you probably will never have to take one.

Coffee.

First thing this morning is a phone call. It's an adventurous one. It's from Mr. Coffee.

Mr. Coffee came in for his drug test some time ago and asked lots of questions. Generally this is the sign of someone looking for a loophole to slip through. I believe in giving absolutely concise one-word answers to questions like these, and then directing them to call my bosses for more information. Questions of this nature include "Does x show up on a drug test?" where x is anything from poppyseed muffins to aspirin to coffee.

Yes, we've all seen that episode of Seinfeld. And yes, it's got some basis in fact. It is possible for perfectly normal, legal items to show up as illegal drugs on a drug test. However, if the smart scientist guy from our lab is right, it's also possible to discern the difference between an innocent bagel and black tar heroin. As a rule, no, the things you eat and drink cannot provide a false positive.

Coffee, however, will not show on a test. That's just absurd. Everyone in America would be failing every drug test they took if coffee provided a positive. Even the harshest 10-panel tests I do collections for don't look for caffeine. Heck, the amount of Pepsi I drink on a daily basis would cause me to fail my own tests if that were the case.

Nonetheless, Mr. Coffee insists that our test screwed him because he drank a lot of coffee that morning.

He begins, in his best politely annoyed voice: "Hi, this is Mr. Coffee. I was in for a test about a month ago for a job and it said I was positive."

"All the test results go back to our main office. I, in fact, never see them. You'll have to call them for more information." I begin to provide the phone number, but he cuts me off.

"Yeah, I already called them right before calling you, they said to call you since you're the one who did the test and you're the one who said coffee doesn't show up."

Coffee? Surely this gentleman is kidding.

"I find that odd, sir, as the main office doesn't open until 9:00 am, and under no circumstances would they have directed you to me." It's 8:06 am. I haven't even had my first Pepsi yet.

"But you're the guy who did my test."

"Actually, I don't do any testing here, and I never see the results. You'll have to call the main office after nine for more information."

"I read that coffee shows up on a test and I just want to know why you lied to me."

Coffee? Surely this gentleman is kidding.

"I don't know where you read that, sir, but it's false. Coffee doesn't provide a false positive. None of the tests I do here check for caffeine."

"Oh, so you do do the tests there yourself?"

Whoops. My bad.

"No, sir, I misspoke. I do only collections here, not tests. And I never see the results. And coffee does not appear on drug tests."

"I read it on the internet, and you need to stop screwing with me. I lost a job because of you!"

Internet? Obviously this clown is kidding.

"Can you tell me the address of the article?"

"What?"

"I want to read the same article you read, about coffee providing false positives on drug tests. Hold on a second, I'll open my laptop."

"I don't have time for this. I lost a job and I couldn't even get my kid a Halloween costume because your test is [expletive deleted] up and you would rather screw around on the computer than do your job."

"Once you tell me the address of the site where you found the article, I can work from the same information base as you. I expect it's from a peer-reviewed scientific journal?"

"...it was on an anti-drug test website alright? I don't have time for this, you just want to screw around. I don't believe that I lost a job and you don't even care. I should have you fired so you know how it feels."

Anti-drug test websites. Ah yes. I know them well. I wonder if he read the one that sells the dehydrated urine or the one that sells the fake penises?

"To be technical, sir, you didn't lose the job. You can't lose a job you didn't have in the first place. And I doubt I'll get fired from mine -- I don't drink coffee."

As Mr. Coffee jumps into his next string of excuses and obscenities, I watch a woman clamber up to my door from the parking lot. I have to end this phone call. And I was having such fun, too.

"Sir, I have to go. Feel free to call the main office to ask about your results and have me fired. Bye-bye."

I hang up on the guy mid-sentence.

My next free moment, I dig through my paperwork and find Mr. Coffee's collection. It was for one of my Gold Service clients, which means I have his pre-screen results sitting here. Of course, I don't have the official lab results -- just the ones from the little eyedropper kit.

Non-negative for marijuana and cocaine.

Must have been some coffee. Juan Valdez would have been proud.

I imagine if you were to inject pure caffeine directly into your blood stream, it could foul up a drug test. Of course, you'd also be too dead to care.