The hypertext online internet web log of Chris

Today, for only the second time in my medium sized life, I went to give blood. They sometimes host a session at my work, but I left it a bit late and booked in at Gorse Hill Community Centre instead.

I had already completed my lifestyle and travel questionnaire,  so the nurses could quickly get on with checking my eligibility.  I wasn’t grilled or accused of any unprotected act, paid for or otherwise. They checked the countries I had been to last year.  There was a quick iron test and then I was lead through to the donors’ area.

On the way through I was asked to drink a pint of water. Due to the treats we had at work for Children in Need, I wasn’t really hungry enough to neck it.

“Just pretend it’s a lovely cold lager!” , she said.

The universally accepted assumption is that everyone just loves alcohol. I’m not offended or anything, just amused that a nurse would encourage such mentality. If it was indeed a lovely cold lager, she shouldn’t be making me binge drink.

I was asked to sit up on the hospital bed thing, so I swung my winkle-pickers up and lay back awaiting instructions. The donation went through in about 15 minutes.

“Are you ok to have a plaster?”

Yeah, should be fine.

I sat in the recovery area (a small table) and was offered a cup of tea. Yes, please.

“The thing about tea, is that everyone likes it different…..”, he shared.

Not strictly true I thought. I know he was just filling the grumpy silence I give off, but it’s an odd thing to open up a conversation with something so obviously false.

He went on to talk about roadworks, traffic, complicated payslips, and how many miles he does when he’s working in Oxford.

“Contraflows scare me….”, he added.

To be honest, when I’m giving blood, I’m not there to make friends. It was 5:30, so I’m not judging him badly for just being friendly. I could chat all day to a mate, but I’m not going to waste it on a stranger.

Next time a stranger wants to chat, I’m going to invite them out on a date. Male or female. That’ll learn ya.

Christopher Mark Whitlock
A) White – British
Blood Group : O RH Positive

This is a sequel to Blood and biscuits

There’s a small bunch of people in the office that I will happily talk to as friends. It’s the pointless small talk that I don’t care for.

“Hi Chris, How are you?”

“I’m good thanks, I had a nice weekend. Went shopping and went up town in the evening, how are you”…

… “Fine”.

Is that really the best they could do? Can’t they even stretch to include _any_ info. Why did I bother even answering?

If they were “just being polite”, then I class that as being rude.

You’re either polite or not polite…. not “just being polite”.

The rule is; if you haven’t got anything to answer your own question, then don’t ask me it.

Oh, and another rule; No small talk in the toilets. It’s just wrong.