I Have No Veins... OR A SOUL

Do you know what I hate?

GETTING BLOOD DRAWN.

NO.

Let me start off by saying that I've only given blood once, and this was because they were offering free t-shirts and water bottles. And who am I to refuse free t-shirts and water bottles?

So I show up to the place, which is conveniently located in the basement of a dorm. I take a wrong turn and end up here...

YEESH.

So after about ten minutes of aimlessly wandering around the basement of a dorm, (and fitting in because I am ridiculously young and attractive, of course,) I find the blood-donation place, which looks remarkably like this...

Only full of old people and those gross college guys that donate sperm, too.

This guy knows what I mean.

So I walk up to the desk and ask the attendant, "Where are the free t-shirts and water bottles?"

She gestures behind her and I see a GLORIOUS TOWER OF FREE WATER BOTTLES.

Blessed be!

So in my splendiforous sublimity, I mutter under my breath, "How do I get them ALL."

And the attendant, who has a phenomenally acute sense of hearing, replies, "You have to give blood."

She guided me to a dingy tan fold-up metal chair and gave me a form to fill out, full of extremely thought-provoking questions.

Are you above 17 years of age?

Do you have any form of hepatitis?

What are your thoughts on the presence of God in regards to Nigeria's oil crisis?

So I answer them all in a flurry of one-word responses. I JUST WANT A WATER BOTTLE. I hand it to a nurse and she takes me to the darkest corner of the basement to ask me a few questions. For the record, the sperm donors are in earshot and they can totally hear my confidential interview. THANKS A BUNCH RED CROSS.

She asks me if I've been out of the country and I tell her that I've been to Hell, meaning the actual fire and brimstone HELL and Hell, Grand Cayman.

Yep. I've totally been here.

She checked my pulse and had a little hissy-fit when she discovered that I DON'T HAVE A PULSE BECAUSE I'M A DEMON/DEMIGOD INFUSION.

After the initial shock, we made a little deal that I'd give some blood for research in exchange for FIVE FREE WATER BOTTLES.

She takes me back to my dingy tan fold-up metal chair and puts a plastic arm belt just below my shoulder, which really pissed me off because I have a perfectly good leather belt that I got a lot of mileage out of during my dragon faze in the early 2000's that they wouldn't let me use. WHATEV.

Then she rubbed down my arm with an alcohol wipe, which burned but not as bad as a HOLY WATER WIPE would have! Har har har! Someone should really look into making those....

Anyhow! She plunges the needle into my arm and searches for a vein.

No vein.

She takes it out and tries again.

NO VEIN.

At this point, she switches arms because my left arm is now numb and PISSED THE FUCK OFF FOR BEING RAPED TWICE BY A STERILE NEEDLE.

She tries for a vein.

NO. EFFING. VEIN. AGAIN.

At this point, she's smiling and laughing uncomfortably. "Boy, this hasn't happened to me before! Are you sure you have veins, miss?"

But then I think about it.

And guess what?

I'm pretty sure I don't.

Whoops.

Why didn't they ask me that on the form? Isn't that an important part of the blood drawing process?

So there's this awkward moment where she's staring at me like I could kill her. And she's right. I totally could. But so could most people. It's physically possible for everyone to kill someone. But that's getting all philosophical and that's not my point.

My point is: WHERE'S MY FREE WATER BOTTLE?

I ask her and she scurries over to the tower, grabs one from the very top and throws it to me while she screams, "The power of Christ compels YOU!" Which never really works, for the record. Imagine me going up to a priest and saying, "The Devil's not your friend!" Does that affect the priest? Not really. He knows the Devil's not his friend. We're stating the obvious here.

Donating blood was a real boner-kill.

But look at this SWEET-ASS WATER BOTTLE!

Lucy