Brown Bags, Plastic Cups and Motorcycles

With events at work and at home weighing heavy on my mind, I wanted to post something that had nothing to do with either. I had read a post on another blog about a "most embarrassing moment" and it made me pause and think "what would be mine?"

Well I hope I can do this justice. Some of you know this story and hopefully you will at least chuckle again and maybe I can get a full fledged laugh from those who have not heard the story yet.

It was about nine years ago, just after H. and I had decided to make a go of this relationship on a long term basis. We had discussed having more children, the advantages and disadvantages of adding to our "instant" family. Myself having just spent a year with a some what obstinate 3 year old thought that what we had was good and I was not ready to start completely over again. H. agreed so we set out to keep our family at its current population. That is how I ended up leaving my doctors office one afternoon with a post vasectomy "test kit"

A post vasectomy "test kit" simply contains a small plastic sample bottle with lid and a plain brown lunch bag in which to carry the bottle. I suppose this is so no one can tell you are carrying a small plastic sample bottle with lid. The kit was brought home and stored until that day in the future when I had healed enough to be able to provide a sample for the post vasectomy test kit.

It was a warm summer day and I had to work the second shift so I had the morning and early afternoon to myself. My doctor imposed wounds had healed and it was time I filled my obligation to the post vasectomy test kit. This had been highly advised as the procedure had been know to fail and H. did not have a great deal of confidence in my doctor. Those who have passed on the post vasectomy test have been rewarded with an additional 4 years of college for which to pay.

I completed the task "at hand" with the efficiency of one who may have been down that path a time or two and I secured the plastic lid on the plastic container. I placed said container in the brown lunch bag so that no one would know I was transporting a plastic container and I placed the brown bag into my backpack. Now I mentioned that it was a warm summer day and those of you who know me, know that on warm summer days my chosen mode of transportation is my motorcycle. I planned on dropping "the sample" at the lab at the local hospital for testing on my way to work. I strapped the backpack to my bike and off I went.

I arrived at the hospital without incident, proceeded to unpack my brown bag from my backpack and headed off to find the lab. With brown bag in hand (no one knew what was inside) I entered the hospital. Now lucky for me I have not had any reason for spending time in a hospital so I really did not know where I was going so I approached the receptionist and asked for direction to the lab. The pleasant woman at the desk inquired if I had completed the registration to which I explained I was only there to drop "a sample" off at the lab. She informed me that I still needed to complete registration and directed me to an office area down the hall.

I found the office and took a seat in front of the desk. I set my brown bag on the table next to me. She had no idea what was in the bag, that is until I had to tell her why I was there. So much for the brown bag, I could have just had the plastic sample cup sitting there. Anyway I filled out all the appropriate forms with address, employer and insurance information and I was finally able to set off to find the lab.

It was after I had traveled back down the hall and into the hospital entrance area when I first noticed something was not right with the brown paper lunch bag. It seems that the bottom of the bag had gotten wet. I must have set it down in something or maybe something in my backpack had spilled on it. It couldn't be....no it couldn't, it just couldn't. I stood in the lobby of the hospital wondering what to do. I need to know what it was. Coke, coffee, water.........my sample? I looked to see if anyone was looking. No one seemed to notice me standing there lost and confused. I slowly raised the brown lunch bag towards my nose bringing the ever increasing wet spot closer and closer. I looked around one more time. No one was looking. I sniffed, I sniffed again................Damn, it wasn't coke, it wasn't coffee it was what I had most feared, it was the product of my own making.

What to do, what to do? I looked at the door. I looked down the hall at the door to the lab. Should I just leave? But I had registered and maybe, just maybe there was enough still in the cup. I opened the brown lunch bag and looked inside. There was the plastic cup and there was the plastic lid still attached to the cup. There was the crack in the cup. There was the problem. It seems the post vasectomy test kit was not rated for travel in a backpack strapped to a motorcycle.

I was there. I had produced a sample and by god I was going to see it though. I took my wet brown lunch bag and headed off to the lab. I opened the door to lab and was greeted by.....yes you guessed it a cute young girl. Why don't they hire old ugly men for these positions?
"Can I help you?" she asked
"Yes, I replied "I am here to have a post vasectomy sample analyzed"
"Did you bring a sample?" she asked
"Yes, but there may be a problem"
"A PROBLEM? What sort of problem?" she asked with a puzzled concerned look
At this point I hold up the brown paper lunch bag with the now large wet spot covering most of the bottom of the bag.
She steps away from the bag "ahhhh I don't think we can accept that!"
"Are you sure" I say with hope in my voice
"I will go ask the technician" she says as she disappears into the next room

When she returns to the counter she simply states NO! At which point she raises a trash can from behind the counter and indicates that I should deposit my brown paper lunch bag into the can. At this point I think she knows what is in the bag.

Then she asks a question. "Can you provide another sample? or would you like a new sample bottle to take home?"

Who does she think I am? Superman? It has only been an hour since the first sample. I lower my head, accept the sample bottle and make my way out of the hospital. I still have to go to work. I will have to do it all over again. Next time I will drive my car to the hospital.

The next sample was delivered without incident, no problem, well no problem except I failed the test. The buggers were swimming the gap. I would have to go under the knife again! This is a true story.