We interrupt your regularly scheduled Bar Mitzvah summary for a brief report on the current events of today.**
After a weekend of eating lots of CRAP, I recommitted myself to watching the diet again, to continue on my path of losing some excess pounds. Going for a drive in snowy Suburbia to run an errand (and of course, try to sell more books) in my cute little black car, I suddenly detected an obstacle to my willpower as a sweet smell wafted into my car and up to my nose. I knew that smell anywhere. It was Dunkin Donuts.
“I…will…not…stop…for…donuts!” I said to myself as I tried to speed up to get away, all the while the poor road conditions were forcing me to slow back down.
“No! This…can’t…happen!” I shouted, to nobody but myself.
Wait a minute though…there was something odd about this particular Dunkin Donuts that I was passing. I felt something was out of sorts. Something…perhaps MANIC?
I pulled up to the drive-thru and yelled, “I don’t want any donuts but I sense the presence of a friend in there…Manic, is that you????”
“Beeble sneeble zithskreet mumblejumble…” said the person on the intercom.
Because I worked at McDonalds for 2 1/2 years in high school and then minored in Intercom Translation in college, I was overjoyed to translate and discover that my friend Manic Mommy was indeed “in the building”.
I yelled, “Crfleebly floo!”, and a minute later, she came bursting out into the parking lot:
“I come bearing donuts!” she screamed.
“Hey, while you’re here,” she said, “why don’t you donate some blood at the place that is conveniently located just a few doors down? I’m finishing up a contest at my blog and you’ll be just in time!”
I said, “Oh my goodness, I would LOVE to give blood! How did you know that was exactly the errand I came out especially to do today? And, would you come with me? Let’s have some fun!”
So she did. I pulled myself out of eligibility for the contest prizes since it might look a little fishy if I won, after all the fun we had. Instead, I will say that I donated blood in honor of the thirteen-year-old’s bar mitzvah and as my good deed for the day. If you haven’t given blood in a while, you should consider it! (But I’m not pushing you…)
First, I had to register and give them all the information about my worldly travels, to make sure I hadn’t been exposed to Mad Cow Disease or anything like that. I accidentally answered one of the Man questions that was on the form and the woman looked at me funny when she had to ask me why I didn’t just mark that I’m a Female. But we got that all fixed. And I passed all of the preliminary stuff. Yay Me!
I left that little room and went to the Blood Chair (not a technical term) and met up with my phlebotomist.
phle·bot·o·mist /fləˈbɒtəmɪst/ [fluh-bot-uh-mist]
1. a specialist in phlebotomy.
2. a nurse or other health worker trained in drawing venous blood for testing or donation.
Let’s call her Anin. She was great. Naturally I wore my best tiara. I don’t leave home without it. As Manic and I “tore up the place” and had them in stitches at our goofy behavior, we wanted to get a photo for posterity. I had prepared a special sign for Manic to hold, JUST IN CASE I coincidentally met up with her out on the town. (Don’t you do that kind of stuff?)
Here’s the happy group photo: Me, let’s call that one Emiaj, Anin, and Manic. Ready for my sweet snack so I don’t pass out!
Nothing like a Valentine’s Day donut…and since I gave blood, I HAD to eat it. Manic said so. She’s such a pusher.
We chatted there for a while as I had my snack, and I discovered that Manic actually hangs out at this place. She made herself right at home.
I was a bit worried about her when she started talking about having them all over for a Memorial Day BBQ. I had to get her out of there, so we skipped out to grab a quick lunch. Here’s the inside of her car.
After lunch, she dropped me back off at my car and, because I was such a good bloodsport (get it?), she scraped off my car for me. Thanks for the scrape, Manic! LOL
**This story is a slightly fictional account based on actual events.