When to Say No to a Mini Hotdog



My new name tag

I’ve had many jobs. I probably couldn’t name all of them without thinking really hard, but here is a sample – indoor games specialist, commercial fishing deckhand, pizza delivery order taker, production assistant, visiting tutor, jewelry story assistant, along with a couple jobs that I don’t even know the titles of. Soon I’ll be adding Naturalist to the list.

Besides the normal routine of applying, interviewing, getting the offer, and accepting the job, I’ve had to do a few things in preparation that I’ve never done before.

I had to take an online test to get my Alaska State Food Workers Card. I did this early last week when my job with Gavel to Gavel had ended and I was figuring out what was next. Most jobs that I’ve done haven’t included a lot of pre-work, but for being a Naturalist on board a whale watching boat, the list seems endless. I decided getting a Food Workers Card was of upmost importance compared to the other things, one of which is actually studying and learning about wildlife and habitat and flora and local landmarks.

I would rank getting an Alaska State Food Workers Card as one of the easiest things I’ve ever done that included taking a test. I watched about 30 minutes worth of videos about washing your hands, washing your hands, washing your hand, and washing your hands. Actually there were a few other tidbits of knowledge thrown in, like safe temperatures to keep food at, which I’ve been thinking about a lot.

After living in developing countries and eating meat that I knew had been hanging outside for hours in hot weather with flies all around, I’m pretty immune to the concept of what’s considered “safe” or “unsafe” to eat. (I could name a dozen more examples of sketchy eating situations that I’ve come to not think twice about). Plus, I think about all the times I’ve incorrectly defrosted, according to these state videos, or left food out in the “danger zone” for over four hours, and how I’ve always been fine. The only time I was adamant about not eating something because it had gone bad was a very severe and obvious case. Scott and I were on one of our breaks during teaching in Tanzania and we were doing a lot of camping and traveling by bus. To make things more affordable we’d oftentimes buy groceries at shops and carry them with us. At this point in our time abroad, we thought buying mini hotdogs was a good idea. We figured they were processed enough to last a couple days without refrigeration and while they tasted better cooked or grilled, we could, if needed, eat them straight from the package. On a particularly long bus ride, perhaps a 12-hour one, Scott felt hungry and started rummaging through his backpack to see what he could find. He pulled out an opened bag of mini hotdogs. I knew these hotdogs were on day three of being opened and had just been festering at the bottom of Scott’s bag. Not only did I turn them down when Scott offered them to me, I warned Scott to not eat them either. Do you think Scott listened to me? No. He ate not one, not two, but three mini hotdogs. All I have to say is that by the time the bus stopped at a roadside restaurant for lunch, I was happily eating some freshly cooked meat and rice while Scott was throwing up.  

While I can acknowledge that information about safe food temperatures is good to know, I’m not going to change my eating or cooking habits after watching these state videos on food safety – I know what my limits are and they’ve served me well.

After each video segment on washing hands and other pertinent information related to food on the job, I’d take a practice test. After all the videos and practice tests, it was time to take the real test. I got a perfect score on the first try, which was a huge relief since the last time I had to take a state test, it took me three times to actually pass. Compared to the DMV, the DEC makes getting a card simple and stress-free. Once I passed the test (with flying colors), I paid the state $10, and now all I have to do is wait for the card to arrive in the mail. Just like that, I can officially work with food in Alaska and be trusted.

Something else I had to do before becoming a Naturalist is a little thing called a urinalysis drug test, which is commonly referred to as peeing into a cup. I’m sure many people have done this before – not just peed into a cup, but then had it tested for drugs; I haven’t. I didn’t realize how particular the process would have to be but, of course, in hindsight, it makes sense. We’re dealing with drugs, so attention to detail is of upmost importance.

After my name (Ms. Phu) was called, I walked through the door into the part of the office where all the magic happens. I had to take off my coat and put my bag down. At the sink, I was instructed to wash my hands with water but not to use soap. If I wanted to, I could dry my hands. Every move I made was being watched by this woman who was likely around my age and spoke very clearly and without any judgment. She made sure that I saw every move she made as well, like when she opened the package that the cup was in, when she took the cup out, and when she undid the lid. I was then instructed to go into the bathroom, pee into the cup up to the line (although above the line is better), and – this is the most important thing – DO NOT FLUSH THE TOILET. If I flushed the toilet, I’d have to go back to the waiting room and start the whole process a l l  o v e r  a g a i n. “It’s not fun,” the woman warned. I went into the bathroom and closed the door behind me. There were signs on the walls with big letters that read DO NOT FLUSH and the flush handle had tape over it to remind you what you weren’t supposed to do. I had no trouble filling the cup way above the line; I had been holding it for some time. I have to admit, in positioning the cup just so, I definitely got pee on my hand. When I was finished and the woman said I could wash my hands again, thank God she said I could use soap.

The first thing the woman did when I was done peeing into the cup (it’s impossible to not think about apple juice, right?) was check the temperature sticker on the cup. I passed that section. She then had to pour the urine into two plastic test tube-y looking containers. Again, she made sure I watched her every move – when she undid the lids of both tubes, when she poured the urine from the cup, and when she placed the lids back onto the tubes. She then poured the remaining urine into the toilet and flushed, as if it was the most normal thing to do in the world.

What came after was a quick series of stickering and initialing and signatures. My bladder was empty, my hands were clean, and I was confident the labs would find my urine free of cocaine, marijuana, amphetamines, PCP, codeine, morphine, heroin, and some other drug that’s way too long to type – okay, fine, I’ll type it – methylenedioxymethamphetamine. What is that?  And what form does it come in? I realize that after being out of the country for three years, I missed some things, like the fact that bath salts are now a drug. Regardless of what the hippest drug is these days, I will not be partaking in any of them since my new employer, Allen Marine, will be conducting random drug tests throughout the season.

So now, two things down, many more to go before work starts on Monday, like buying new pants for the job, taking a First Aid/CPR course, and… studying. If you were to pick a hundred random people in Southeast Alaska and ask them questions about local wildlife and trees and geography, I would likely rank at the very bottom for knowing the least. I may exaggerate sometimes, but I’m not now. I have a lot of studying to do.