A Fun Prank You Can Try

Some people may know that, before I became an international superstar and stuff, I worked at a homeless shelter in Manhattan. I talked about it once on the public radio program This American Life and wrote about it in my first book Tasteful Nudes, which I only mention to brag and just be sort of annoying. Anyway, it was the best non-show business job I ever had and the maybe the best job I ever had period. I got to meet a lot of interesting people and I ate for free, two of my main goals in life other than to get on Hollywood Squares.

One of my jobs at the homeless shelter was to collect urine samples from some of the residents who needed to be screened for drugs. To get the job done, a supervisor at the shelter would give me a paper cup and plastic vial and I’d then track down the resident in question and have him pee into the cup while I stood by close enough to conclude it was his actual urine and far away enough that it wasn’t totally weird. Then I’d pour some of the urine into the vial and return it to the supervisor, who was usually sitting at the front desk by the entrance of the place.

On one of these occasions, I returned to the front desk and the supervisor at the time, James, wasn’t there, so I got an idea. The paper cups used to get the urine samples were the same kind of paper cups used in the kitchen at breakfast. So I ran back to the kitchen real quick, grabbed a paper cup, and filled it with about an inch of apple juice we there in the fridge. Then I waited in a corner of the front room of the shelter until I saw James walking back to his desk, at which point I began walking toward him with the vial of urine in one hand and the paper cup full of apple juice in the other.

“I got the urine sample for you, but I need another vial for this extra urine,” I said to James while holding up the paper cup filled with apple juice.

“What?” James asked.

“I couldn’t fit all the urine into one vial, so I need another one,” I told explained.

“I only need one vial!” James said, annoyed.

“Then what am I supposed to do with all this leftover urine?” I asked, agitatedly waving the paper cup in front of him.

“I dunno,” James said. “Just get rid of it.”

It was at this point that I pretended to be really confused before drinking the paper cup full of apple juice in one gulp.

“No!” James screamed as I swallowed what he assumed to be urine.

“I’m sorry!” I replied. “I just didn’t know what else to do!”

“You drank that piss?” one of the shelter residents standing nearby asked me with a scowl on his face. “Are you out of your mind?”

There’s a certain power you get once everyone at your job thinks you drink other people’s urine. They just don’t bother you as much and you are free to go about your business without as much unnecessary interruption. And it gave me a nice sort of extra mystique to have on days when being from the suburbs of Cleveland simply wasn’t enough.

I only managed to pull the urine prank a couple more times after that before everyone was onto me. Years later, a homeless person threw an entire Gatorade bottle full of urine on me while I waited for the R train. Karma, I guess. But I still stand by my work.