Another example of the Man keeping Whitey down.

Today, I completed my first training day at the Palm Harbor Ale House, one of many Miller's (not the brew) Ale Houses in the south. The people are cuter, the pay is better, and the store is closer than my current Straunt job at Ruby Tuesday's (although, I will no longer be working at the namesake of a throwaway reference by Kanye West). I spent the weekend sweating bullets about how I was going to pass my drug test for the job, as the DAY before I applied, I met up with some friends for some ganja rocking. I know, I know, I'm such a ne'r-do-well. But I digress. Here is some of the advice I got from various individuals:

Mike (Ruby's cook, currently on probabtion)- Wow, man, you've got like a fifty fifty shot of passing this thing. Drink tons of green tea and cranberry juice. And lose the fat that the THC is chilling in.

Mike's Parole Officer (as told by Mike to me)- The only thing I've ever heard working was to put a little bit of clorine on your fingers and piss over them. But if you try that shit, I'll bring you down hard.

Kevin (the dishwasher)- My brother was on parole and he said every time he had to piss, he spit in the cup. But I don't believe him.

Bishop- You want some of my piss?

Lee (my old Straunt manager)- Oh, you're screwed dude. When I was a manager at another restaraunt, I'd tell people 'Look, just shoot me straight, can you pass this test? And if not, that's cool, and we'll just reschedule it.' So, I'd just be honest with the guy

My Dad- Apparently, the best thing to do is Test Pure. It's a mix akin to gatorade. I've heard that that works. From other people. Not myself.

Turns out, I was worried over nothing. They only test in the event of an accident, as opposed to a prerequisite for getting the job. Because, as my trainer Brenda said, "Oh, God no. The restaraunt business would shut down."

Truer words were never spoken.