Ashley Philips knew from the look and sound of the other candidates around the room he was a shoo-in. He sat on a barstool in the corner of the activity room waiting for the following day to come, a day he’d been training for with intense dedication since the first day he discovered pride via war films.
The other kids, some still 17 while others the same age as him, 24, played pool and video games to pass the time. There were some older people and some in between, but he knew he stood the best chance at making it through. He’d be swearing in to the Marine Corps tomorrow; but until then he’d have to listen to these rednecks and blood thirsty ignoramuses talk about all the heads they take off and all the pussy they’d score in uniform. The talk amused Ashley, but he didn’t want any of that; and that’s an advantage in his corner. Besides being thoroughly jacked with an easy 300 PFT score he felt he also had the perfect mind for the infantry MOS. His morals never wavered, his intelligence offered him every job in the Marine Corps’ bracket and his confidence proposed leadership. All those other guys and girls stood around the pool table talking about their souped up cars, police evasion protocols and relationship failures. None of them knew silence or discretion, except for maybe the few other Marine Corps destined people he met. Spending the night with those people in hotel escrow seemed like a small price to pay for being able to fight for his country.
They woke up at 4 the following morning, ate breakfast and loaded the vans for the MEPS station. Everyone except him seemed tired, yawning every couple minutes and complaining about the caffeine not working properly. One of them quietly made a comment about how he usually does coke to keep awake. The bus snickered to life and the yawns stayed away until they filed off the bus into the building where they’d take their physicals.
Ashley felt confident during the introductory phase of the day, filling out his medical packet with absolutely no negative health issues or experiences to mark. He looked around, seeing a majority of the others circling in their past damage: burst appendixes, chicken pox, wisdom teeth removed, broken bones, food allergies, mental instability…but not Ashley, he’d dodged it all. Or at least the gods kept him safe so he could die on the battlefield, a totally fine substitution in his opinion.
With all the paperwork finished, his group of wannabe soldiers, sailors, airmen and marines headed towards the waiting room where behind several doors awaited the separate medical examination rooms. Blood test, hearing, vision, urinalysis, flexibility, skin examination, height/weight and finally a brief one on one with the Chief Medical Officer. Ashley’s tests went perfectly, and his conversation with the CMO ended with her assurance that he ranked as one of the top specimens of the day. The only test left required him to pee in a cup to ensure no drug use and proper lipid levels, another test he’d pass without question.
The medical officer handling that station gave him the clear cup with it’s screw-on lid and escorted him to the urinal, where he stood directly behind Ashley and waited for him to pee. And wait they did. Twenty seconds went by and no urine flowed. Ashley shook it up and down, but not even a drop exited.
“Come on!” Ashley said to his dick.
“You ain’t gotta pee,” the retired Marine told him, reaching around to grab the cup out of his hand. “We’ll try again in five minutes. Go drink some water.”
Ashley followed the instructions, but he surely didn’t need water. He felt the coffee and water he’d been drinking since breakfast gathering before his urethra with the pressure of knotted water hose. Never before had he needed to pee so much and never before had he not been able to pee. He’d pissed in front of plenty of people, right? Right? He couldn’t remember. All he could think of was the potential liquid pressure bomb his dick might turn into if he kept holding it in.
The five minutes went by slowly and he drank some water just for the hell of it, hoping maybe the new liquid might jostle something loose.
He stepped in front of the urinal, positioned his cup and relaxed, but calming his dick failed him, so he tensed up, really tried to push it out, but nothing came. He felt like a pregnant woman who’d gone through nine months of pain and suffering and growth just for the baby to decide he liked it better in the womb.
“Come on, man!” the medical officer said. “What in the hell, man?”
“Shit,” Ashley said, “I just can’t pee with you standing behind me. Any way you can leave me alone for a second? I promise I’m not trying to pull anything here.”
“Nah, man. Rules are rules. I gotta watch.”
“Can I flush?”
“Can I sit down?”
“At a urinal?”
Ashley hung his head.
“Try again in five minutes. Drink some water.”
“But I don’t need to drink any water, sir. I’ve got all the piss right here,” he said, pointing to his zipped up paints, “it just won’t come out with you standing here.”
“Well, how the hell you gonna carry a gun if you can’t take a piss?”
Ashley thought about this totally illogical question while he sat in the waiting room with crossed legs, tapping his foot to deceive his bladder. He drank some more water and now he was something like three cups of coffee and a gallon of water deep.
“How am I going to carry a gun if I can’t take a piss? Well, I don’t really see the correlation. I’ve carried and shot guns on plenty of occasions, and honestly I’ve pissed a great many times, too. I just can’t piss in front of you, sir. Besides, you already have my blood, just use that to test for drugs, because let’s be honest you’re really only testing for drugs. What’s all this lipid test nonsense? It’s some bullshit rider meant to deter us from thinking you have no faith in us-“
His thoughts were interrupted by his friend, the urine tester, gesturing him back into the room. Ashley unzipped one more time, but knew the futility going into it. He sat there, calmly, staring at the wall in front of him thinking of absolutely nothing, letting his body handle the situation. And like that, the piss started to flow. Ashley came to life with exhilaration, a big grin on his face, but the consciousness of his pissing stopped the flow dead leaving him with only a hundredth of an ounce of piss at best. He shook his dick angrily, cursing at the stupid goddamn non-performing protrusion the gods made too damn small and too fucking scared to be useful.
“Well,” the officer said, “I guess that’s that. Take your cup over to the counter and Harry’ll tell you what’s next.”
Ashley walked over to the urine drop-off counter.
“I guess you’re Harry,” he said.
Ashley put the sad, empty cup on the counter.
“What’s this?” Harry asked.
“I couldn’t pee,” Ashley said, the shame extremely real.
“You couldn’t pee?”
“I couldn’t pee.”
“Did you drink water?”
“Just about all of it, with coffee on top.”
“Huh. You couldn’t pee?”
“Okay, okay. Well, basically this means you’ll be disqualified for today, however if you come back within the next three days we’ll take you. Otherwise you’ll have to write a letter to the Department of Defense explaining why we should let you back before the standard six month waiting hold.”
“Right,” Ashley said. He turned to walk out of the bathroom/pee handling station, but he stopped short of the urinal to give it one final stare. The porcelain shell looked to him a lot like a douchebag’s mouth, sending a fire up his spine and rage into his head. Immediately he walked over and began kicking the urinal in every place he could trying to destroy that grinning killer of dreams.
“You goddamn motherfucking piece of shit goddamn toilet! You fucking curse motherfucker ass shit piece of goddamn fuck you!”
This caused a lot of panic within the government facility. The pee-pee watcher tried to grab Ashley’s arms, tried to bring him down to the ground but his flailing and kicking made him hard to pin. A squad of guards rushed into the room and tackled him. Ashley had his dick halfway out of his pants. He intended to piss on the toilet as revenge, but instead let the buildup of yellow liquid spray all over the arresting guards. Ashley lay there in a puddle of piss with four DOD guards trying to figure out what they’d rolled in that got them all wet. It was a hard thing for Ashley to explain to his recruiting officer…the relief, that is.