About my bald spot

Ok, so I'm being a little dramatic calling to a bald spot, but there is a spot about the diameter of a drinking straw that my hair is to my scalp.

So for the new job, they wanted me to get drug tested. No problem. They wanted a hair sample. Even better, cause I hate needles.

I filled out the form online, and it told me where to go to get the sample collected. I filled out the form on a Saturday, and I had three days to get it done, starting from the Monday on Thanksgiving week.

On the list was a clinic in my hometown, about fifteen minutes from my house. Great, I could go on my way home from work, easy. I get there, hand the woman my order paper, and she goes to get someone. He tells me they don't do the hair collection there. But, he says they do it in the town where the paper is located. Fine.

Tuesday, I go after work to the clinic. It's about five instead from work. The lady has me fill out paperwork. Cool. I hand it to her, and she glances at the order sheet. They don't do hair collection either, and she isn't sure why the guy at the first clinic said they did.

At this point, I am both panicked and angry. I have one more day to do this, and it's the week of Thanksgiving.

I call corporate for the new job, and leave what I'm sure is a very panicked voicemail for my contact, who I had never spoken to before.

I then found a number for the company that actually does the drug tests, and who told me I could go to a clinic that did not actually do what the company says they do.

I got in touch with a nice lady after listening to several minutes of circus hold music. I explained to her what was going on, and that I had been to two clinics in two towns in two days, and nothing.

She said they would schedule it for me, and find out where I should go. They emailed me and told me to go to Town #3, about thirty minutes from work, and in the opposite direction of my house, which was fine.

I then called the clinic and asked if they did that kind of screening, and they said yes. I also asked about special hours.

As soon as we were off deadline Wednesday, I was out the door and down the road. I found the clinic no problem, and got back to see the nurse after about 15 minutes.

She was excited my hair was clean, which made me feel really bad for her, but that faded when she came at me with the scissors.

For some reason, I thought they were just going to pluck a couple of hairs. Nope. She got in there.

But it was over, and I got it done, and I passed, so all's well and all that, but I wouldn't want to go through that again.

Oh, and after the first of the year? They're switching back to urine.