This post was inspired by the ToolMaster, who gave blood last weekend and was startled to become the center of attention. The staff gave him a pin, took a photo of him holding up a card with the number of contributions to date. In Canada, blood donations are done without any financial compensation, so their efforts and initiative are welcome and understandable.
Unfortunately, that doesn’t stop my mind from waxing satiric…
Nobody Donates Better: a Blood-Transfusion Opera
Stage Directions: Curtains open. We see a solitary man sitting in a chair in a medical clinic. A red tube is attached to the inner aspect of his elbow, dripping into a bag. Above him the sign reads Blood Donation Services.
A bevy of buxom beauties enter stage left. They’re dressed in nurses uniforms bearing the insignia of a red cross. Their eyes gleam. Their lips are glossed and parted. As one pins a button on the man’s shirt and takes a photo to commemorate his service, the rest begin that little shimmy-clapping movement done on special occasions in restaurants—the kind where men like to have a birthday bimonthly. The nurses sing the following:
Some women fall for guys with sporty cars
Some ladies’ panties melt for bulging muscles
But we get hot for men with civic minds
Especially when they share their red corpuscles.
How many people have you saved today?
With your donation of platelets, blood, and plasma
When we tally up your pints of contribution
It’s enough to bring us all to an orgasma.
Oh, you, you’re really, really excellent at bleeding
Oh, you’re really, really talented universal donor
Which is why we’ll give you a free pass
When you show up sporting an occasional b–
Dramatic chords interrupt the nurses’ delivery. As they stare at one another in confusion, a red-head enters stage-left. She too wears a uniform, but her hemline barely covers her crotch and her cross is black and tricked out with bling. Her bosom thrusts out as she parts the crowd—an icebreaker cleaving the North Sea. When she halts in front of the man, her wide-legged stance is aggressive, earthy, and very, very sexy. She sings:
So you’ve bled fifty times in the service of life
Have been praised with words fulsome and hearty
Well, I’ve done this monthly since the age of thirteen
And nobody’s thrown me a party.
Now I can see where you mind is going
But before you offer me Pamprin en mass
Reconsider any ill-conceived comments
Lest I introduce Miss IV pole to Mister Ass.
Do you donate blood? What kind of external motivation works for you?