The Macho Man Gives Blood

I used to be a regular blood donor, or an "Active Hero" as it says on the super-fancy card they sent me for my wallet. I never gave blood until I got out of college. Even when they had drives at my high school, and they'd "use" the hot girls in the school to coerce guys to sign up. While every guy and his dog ran to sign up, I walked the other way and bought a soda and a slice of the Little Caesars. The reasoning was quite simple: those girls weren't going out with me whether I gave blood or not, so I'm keeping my pints, baby. Then in college, the drives were always organized by frat guys, at least the ones I saw. My reasoning would have still applied regardless, but I was too busy putting pints into me to let someone take pints back out. Beer. Blood. Goulet.

But then I was an intern, surviving on a collegiate budget, and the blood mobile came to our office. The lady in charge of the drive asked me if I wanted a free donut. I said, what do I have to do to get this donut? She said I had to give blood. I said, where do I sign up? Thus began my long and mutually beneficial experience of blood giving. The awesome part was that they wouldn't make you clock out to give blood, so you'd get paid to eat a free donut, and all you had to give up was a pint of something you'll produce more of anyway. Helluva deal.

15 pints later, and the blood mobile stopped coming to our office because we no longer could get enough donors to sign up. So many people are weenies about this shit, afraid of needles and stuff. Anyway, they haven't been here since last September, and I haven't went to an actual donation place in that time. But with the hurricane and all, I figured I'd go in and give 'em an hour and a pint.

Is it just me or should that be their slogan? "Give us an hour and a pint, Bitch." The bitch part being optional, of course, depending on where the ad was running. Like, on NBC you'd drop the bitch part. Or on ESPN, you'd totally leave it in. Sounds like a winner to me.

I love the questionnaire they make you fill out. No, I have not had sex with a junkie whore stripper who was HIV positive nor have I shared needles with this person. No, I have not had Mad Cow disease.

In the year since I've last given, they've changed it up quite a bit. They still ask you about the hookers and the dirty sex, but now they ask you if you've ever had sexual relations with another man, even once. Nice. Then they ask you if you've ever had any of a long list of sexually transmitted diseases. I remember thinking, jeez, I'm not asking for birth control, I just wanna give blood! Have you injected illicit street drugs using a shared needle with a person you paid for sex, even once? Um, I don't know, ma'am, I was kinda drunk and I don't remember what happened after the money changed hands. (I'm joking, of course.)

You know what I can't wait for? The day they ask you if it hurts when you go number one. The days' comin', guys. Know what other questions are someday gonna be on there? Have you ever consumed an alcoholic beverage, even once? Have you ever consumed a wine cooler with a woman named Bartles or a man named James? I can't wait to be asked those.

Anyway, as the grandmotherly nurse conducted this Spanish Inquisition, I almost cracked up laughing at the absurdity of it all. Come to think of it, how funny would it be if I had answered one of the questions "Well, I didn't expect this." And if she'd answered, "Nooooo one expects the Spanish Inquisition!"

(Monty Python reference, sorry.)

I always like giving the people working there a bad time. Usually its cool, but occasionally you piss them off and they do a number on your arm, leaving a bruise the size of a grapefruit. One time, the attending nurse was a younger woman not much older than myself, and I was in a good mood. Bad combo. When the needle went in, she asked the standard question of "how does that feel". Standard answer would be "fine", "OK", or, alternatively "painful". I answered "awesome".

Awesome!

She was not having a good day, much to my dismay, because when I did not give the standard response, she decided to make my answer be "pain". Upon taking the needle out, she "accidentally" shifted it ever so slightly, leaving a nice bruise that lasted for at least a week.

***

So that brings us to today. I'm sitting in the waiting chairs, and I'm talking to one of the guys from my office who had come to the Red Cross with me. At some point, we wondered aloud what it be like if Macho Man Randy Savage gave blood. I said I'd try to impersoCliff him during the whole blooding process, so we could find out. He bet me five bucks I wouldn't do it.

I won the bet.

Imagine the nurse's shock when she asked me how I was doing, and I answered "Awesome!!" in that deep throaty Savage tone!

Imagine her fright when she told me to prepare for a slight stick, and I answered "Bring it on, Hogan!" in a Macho-esque scream!

Imagine her horror when she stuck the needle, and I yelled "Ooooh Yeah! That all you got, Hogan?" in a deep husky Macho Man voice!

Imagine her shock when I kept leaning over the side of the chair -- with the needle still in my arm, mind you -- to watch the blood drip into the bag, and cheering it on, again in the Macho Man voice!

Imagine the poor canteen worker's horror when he offered me a donut afterward, and I asked if he had any Slim Jims. "Snap into a Slim Jim! Oooooh Yeah!"

Easiest five bucks I ever made.

***

Downside of it all was that as they wrapped my arm in the gauze, one of the other lady nurses' suggested they wrap the Macho Man in a pink band. Guess they were telling me something. Or trying to anyway.

And that thing would be?

There can be only one Macho Man. And I ain't it.

You bet.

***

But I did get this hilarious line out of it all: as I'm leaving, the nurse stops me and says, "By the way, my name's Jill, not 'Hogan'."

You can't make this stuff up.