The Blood Donor
A friend's brother slipped on some ice at his school and fell through a plate glass window, breaking off huge heavy shards that rained down on him, including one that went through his ribs and grazed his heart. He nearly bled to death in the ambulance.

As it happened there was a clinic at the student union shortly thereafter so out of a newfound sense of nobility and civic duty I went to donate for the first time. I stood in line for the finger prick where they test your blood type. The guy at the front of the line was straight out of casting for Heavy Metal Parking lot- thick mullet, luxuriant 'stache, Iron Maiden concert T. He looked hard, damn hard.

They poked his finger and he stood aside. The nurses turned their attention to stabbing my fingertip with a razor-sharp implement, and therefore missed the heavy metal dude taking a knee and saying (to himself? to all and sundry?) "I'm goin' down, man" Which he did, his head making a nice crunchy bounce noise on the parquet floor.

They made him rest on a stretcher. I answered the questionnaire (No I have not had major surgery or anal sex with a man since 1976) and gave a juicy warm pint of O + before heading to the pub where I could now drink at a discount thanks to my reduced blood volume.

The brother recovered. The mullet was shamed. I was liquored. All for the best really.
(TommyShanks, Tue 12 Aug 2008, 3:12, 1 reply)

Back in 1976
Were you giving or receiving, so to speak?
(Vice Admiral Sir Charles Cockbrush KCB MBE DSO, who is finding it increasingly difficult to log into b3ta.com wants to duck your aunt and kick your puppy, Tue 12 Aug 2008, 14:40, closed)