The Blood Drive

I freaking hate blood drives. Loathe them with all my being. Though it may sound like a filthy-whore communist thing to say, I assure you, it’s true. It’s not the needles, or the blood, or even the part about helping other people that bothers me (although that does piss me off), it’s all the shit that happens to me whenever I try to do it.

Every time my blood has been borrowed or tested, something obscenely horrible happens. Weather it’s accidentally stabbing every last one of my veins, or simply accusing me of being HIV positive, nothing ever seems to run smooth.

This week, I was in briefing when one of my sergeants brought up the Red Cross. According to him, the organization is super low on blood and is in town looking to harvest some life-force. While not formally a part of this campaign, my department was strongly suggesting that we make a liquid donation.

The last time I was asked to give blood was in the academy. One day, the Red Cross rolled into town and set up shop in our gym. After a particularly brutal PT session, a group of us were “voluntarily” sent to the donation chamber. Once in the gym, we were handed a huge pre-screening questioner and told to fill it out.

As I looked over my form I began to laugh. Because the agency didn’t want to get tainted blood, the pre-screening form asked several eye opening in depth questions. Initially, these questions were normal, asking things like, “Do you have any STD’s” or “Have you gotten a tattoo in the last year?”

But as the form goes on, the questions began to get crazy. While question 1 had been something bland like, “Do you weigh enough to give blood”, by question 10 it was, “Have you ever had sex in exchange for drugs?”, and “Have you ever been filmed having sex a group of guys?”

Towards the end of the form things were totally out of control. Nothing was off limits. Each question detailing an act more depraved than the one previous.

Question 30: “Have you ever had sex with five guys and a penguin?”
Question 31: “Have you ever done cocaine while someone shits on your chest?”
Question 32: “Have you had sex with a penguin while it shits on someone’s chest that’d doing cocaine?”

By the time I was done, my buddies and I were in tears. The form was funnier than anything we had ever read. After exchanging some accusations with the other guys, I stood up and met with the screener. Briefly she looked over the form. “Alright, everything looks good,” she began. “No STD’s, no drugs.” But then she paused. “Uh oh, tell me about this trip.”

In the muddle of the questioner, lost in amongst the zillion questions about evil and debauchery, was a single question about traveling out of the country.

Me: “Six months before the academy, I went to a wedding in Mexico.”
Lady: “Oh, well I’m afraid that I can’t let you give blood.”

As I walked away from the table a rejected donor, all of the guys in my academy looked at me in shock. Since they couldn’t hear my conversation with the screener, they had no idea why I was rejected. Instantly, they looked down at their tests and began to exchange guesses.

“You participate in one drug fueled gay orgy and suddenly your blood isn’t good enough.” Was all I said before walking out the door.