This happened to me last year, but it’s one of my mom’s favorite stories and she asked that I retell it here:
I donated blood last year for a friend’s birthday. Did you know you could do that? She organized a party with the New York Blood Center and people went and donated as members of her party. The way I see it, I usually feel a little drunk/hungover after I donate so it’s really like going out for a wild night, except you’re saving lives!
Because I’m naive and watch too much television, I assume every person in scrubs is a trained medical professional. The reality is that the people who take your blood aren’t nurses or doctors. That’s not to say they don’t know what they’re doing, but you can get some interesting characters.
Jose was my blood technician, and he did a lot of dancing, and mentioned no less than ten times that he loves tequila. As my friend and I sat dizzy with anemia, he asked us if we had children . . .
Jose: So you girls are married, do you have any kids?
Me: No, do you?
Jose: (Nodding solemly) Yes.
Me: How many?
Jose: Legally?
Me: Um, I guess?
Jose: Well here’s the thing, I got two legally. But then last year I was at this party, and you know it gets, I be all crazy like, and I get with this girl and we have a good time. So we still keep in touch through the internet and a few months ago and she sends me this picture of her baby, and I’m like, That’s my baby! Look at her! And she’s all like, Naaaah, that ain’t your baby. But I know. So anyway, legally I got two. But I think this other one’s mine.
{Insert awkward silence}
Me: Oh, ok that’s cool.
The Reluctant Long Islander 