Me: Hi! I have an appointment for 1 PM and-
Red Cross Lady: Oh, HELL.
Me: Well that doesn't sound good.
RCL: The national call center taking appointments isn't getting our messages that we're almost totally booked solid until closing today, and we can only take appointments for tomorrow. If you want to wait, they'd be seeing you around 6:30 PM since there's about 45 people in front of you, unless you're a-
Me: *shows Red Cross type card*
RCL: ...like I said, there are three people in front of you and you should be seen within the hour.
Me: *cracks up* Now I feel a little bad.
RCL: No, universal donors get total Line Cuts-ies. *grin*
So I hung out for about 45 minutes, read my book, and watched as they had to apologetically turn away anyone who wasn't an O- because they were booked until closing plus about an hour of overtime. They asked everyone turned away to please come back tomorrow, and also gave out flyers for alternate collection locations and rolling collection locations for the weekend. After about 25 minutes, adalheidis_aria strolled in. Or so I thought at first, when I started to jump up and squee, then realized this woman was about an inch shorter, 20 lbs heavier, with slightly shorter hair and dressed a lot more butch, as well as carrying a motorcycle helmet. But seriously could have been her sister. She sat next to me and whispered "So are we ALL O negs?"
Me: Not yet, apparently there's people here who've been waiting since this morning, but we get cutsies.
Her: Wow, now I feel kinda bad.
Me: Yeah me too.
Her: But also a little smug.
Me: XD Totally!
Her: But mostly? Wondering on the status of those doughnuts.
Me: Free for the taking. So's the pizza.
Her: Oooh, I- PIZZA?
Me: Yup, one's pepperoni, the other's an all-meat combo. The recovery table tried to gank it and the front desk ladies staged a coup to get it back.
Her: Smart people. NEED YOUR BLOOD, WE GIVE MEAT! Total caveman barter system.
Me: Pretty much! Although I'm predicting in an hour it's going to be all O negs in here, then I don't know what they're going to do.
Me: HA! Then they'd be all running around with buckets. "No no, wait, bleed in here!"
*random woman walks in*
RCL, very tiredly: I'm sorry, unless you're a universal donor, we-
RW: Actually I'm from Channel 11 news. Can I take some shots and interview your PR head and some people for the evening news?
Her*: Well shit, now I wish I'd bothered to put on makeup this morning.
Me: Agreed. Or that I hadn't had my window down on the way here.
Her: I may duck out in the hall and slap on some mascara.
Me: Dude, share?
Her: That's probably a disqualifier. "Have you shared mascara with a stranger in the last 3 months?"
Me: *cracks up* Point.
RCL: O neg #6?
Me: That's me, glad you didn't waste your mascara! Have fun!
Her: Yay rah. *twirls finger*
Then I got to go through the usual routine: making sure I'm not anemic, making sure I haven't magically become 4'10", answering the questionnaire that no, I have not had unprotected sex with a mad cow from Africa with tattoos in 1975, etc. Head out to the table and get strapped in and begin The Squeezin'(tm). I normally do not react terribly well to The Squeezin'(tm), which has always amused me in a morbid way. Things being injected into me? I'm fine. Piercings? Smooth sailing. Tattoos? Absolutely fine. Blood being drawn from my body? Mentally perfect calm, physically complete meltdown. My blood pressure goes through the roof (which I suppose is efficient in getting it over with), pulse spikes, I get violently nauseated and lightheaded unless I am lying nearly flat on my back. Even though mentally I am not freaking out even a whit. My body just has this bizarre unconscious "NOOOO THE PRECIOUS" reaction when it comes to blood being removed.
So I'm lying back, feeling vaguely grey, and RW hustles in with her camera crew and sets up to interview the PR guy. Pretty much right in front of my chair. So I have no idea if the footage will be used or not, but if anyone in DFW is watching Channel 11 news tonight and they do a report on the blood drive, the fat chick in black, burgundy and silver in the background trying not to retch is me. Yay, fame.
Afterwards I got up, sat at the table with my soda & cookie, and the attendant pointed out a huge banner on the wall that I'd noticed before, proclaiming support for Ft. Hood. I thought it just a promotional thing, but she said they were asking everyone who gave blood for the crisis to sign it, and it would be sent to the base next week. I thought that was nifty and said I would. After I nibbled some cookie and felt only half-wobbly, I got up and started to read what was already on there. It was pretty much a solid string of "God bless" and "Jesus loves you"s, which I thought was sweet, followed by a single "BLESSED BE!" which cracked me up. Diversity represent!
I left a message of thanks and well-wishes and signed it, then felt that wasn't quite enough, so I started doodling a tiny Eben & Snooch next to my message, which I've done a few times before at cons. Hey, maybe someone over there's a fan. As I was sketching, the PR guy (done with his interview) hustles over with a camera and a piece of paper.
"Hey! That's so cool, can I get a pic?"
"Great, sign this release form... we might use it on the redcross.org page, or in a print ad, or we might not use it at all, but just in case!"
I grinned, signed it, and went back to doodling. He snapped the pic at some point, but I was trying my hardest not to pay attention since he said he didn't want anything posed. With my luck I probably have my tongue sticking out or something, but enh. ;)
So... a rather productive lunch break, I suppose!
* Just realized how bad of a moniker this was. Oh well.
** Also, just for the few non-goth people on my FL, the title refers to this famous song by the band Type O Negative. Har har, I R clever, etc.