Thursday, March 25, 2010

Blood On The Tracks

I’m a big fan of computers. After all, it’s computer technology that allows me to post these incoherent ramblings, and you, dear reader, to get paid to read them as you ask “is this idiot drunk again?” while at work. One thing that does worry me a bit, though, is the way that more and more of our personal lives are being captured in a big database kept by the Illuminati and used to, for example, tailor the ads we see in our browsers specifically for us, based on our amassed history.

I’ve grown accustomed to the ads for “barely 18 hot pygmy goat action” and whatnot … I wasn’t really planning on running for office, anyway, so no big deal. Today, though, I was quite taken aback when I went down to my local Red Cross to give some blood*.

It had been a while, as I only donate in years that are evenly divisible by 10, but it became painfully obvious that they’ve updated the software on their computers and have full access to those Trilateral Commission data. Here’s a sample of the script questions I had to answer in the screening:

Computer: Have you ever had sex, even once, with an intravenous drug user?

Dead Acorn: No.

Computer: Have you ever had sex, since 1977, with another male?

Dead Acorn: No.

Computer: Have you ever been paid for sex, or have you ever paid for sex, even once?

Dead Acorn: No.

Computer: Have you had sex with anyone in the last 12 months who has had a tattoo or body piercings within the previous 12 months?

Dead Acorn: No.

Computer: Have you had sex with anyone in the last 12 months?

Dead Acorn: No … wait, what?

Computer: Have you spoken with a member of the opposite sex in the last 6 months?

Dead Acorn: What the fuck?

Computer: Dude, do you even KNOW any girls?

Dead Acorn: This is bullshit!

Computer: You know we don’t pay for blood,right? You’ll have to get your hooker money somewhere else, loser. Try the plasma center.

They ended up taking my blood anyway, which didn’t go all so well. At first, it was flowing really fast, then it stopped altogether and the nurse had to jiggle the needle around in my arm to get it going again, then I got all light-headed and started sweating**, so then everyone was staring at me, thinking “wow, so that’s what happens when you don’t even know any girls,” and finally they got done, and I stormed out saying “see you in 2020, assholes.”

*Obligitory blood donation joke: As the nurse was getting ready to stick the needle in, she says “ok … little prick …” so I said “yeah, well, your tits ain’t so big either!”

**That part is true. It was a bit of a rough go there.


Domestic Oub said...

I like all those questions. Not for me obviously, but for hubby. It's better than a polygraph for keeping him honest. Cause like, they test for the tattoed drug user anti-bodies... don't they?

The Dead Acorn said...

Maybe they're good questions in that context, but for someone who is, as the French say, sans amore*, they're just meant to ridicule and hurt. That, on top of the fact that they stick a giant needle in your arm. I hate the Red Cross ... they would definitely be in my hate poem**.

* I'm not really sure if the French say that or not.

** Ok, only the sticking-the-giant-needle-in-my-arm part, not the humanitarian-disaster-relief-saving-lives part.

Niamh B said...

I'm torn because I admire your humanitarian efforts and selflessness in giving the blood, yet I deeply resent your implying that we read during our work time, and I would finish that thought if it wasn't coffee break time just now.....

Ah - I wish - coffee break is a good 2 hours away yet.
Actually I read it first thing this morning at home, and I'm glad I did, because I would have been fired for laughing uproariously at my computer if I had waited till now.