Canadian Blood Services, evening, bustling with activities.
The players: Good Melle, Naughty Melle, many student firefighters, assorted nurses, volunteers, and other donors.
Upon completing the questionnaire and arriving in the back area of the clinic to await the nurse interview portion of the festivities…
Good Melle: There are an awful lot of men in uniform back here.
Naughty Melle: Hot diggity!
Good Melle: There are a lot of folks with first-time donor pins this evening.
Naughty Melle: Hmm, those uniform patches say “Firefighter”. Nom.
Good Melle: Ahh, group blood drive season, and these guys are Conestoga College students.
Naughty Melle: Those dudes drinking apple juice are kinda hot.
Good Melle: Man, it’s really busy tonight. Not sure I’ll be outta here by 6:30.
Naughty Melle: Ahh yes, the metabolism of youth. It’s how one can both eat many doughnuts and have such sculpted biceps.
Good Melle: God, they’re young looking.
Naughty Melle: Hey look, that one’s pants aren’t oversized. Nice booty.
Good Melle: So these guys would be… 20-ish? Oy vey…
Naughty Melle: However do they get their hair so fetchingly disheveled…?
Good Melle: Starting to feel kinda dirty… Is it my turn to see the nurse next?
Naughty Melle: They’re so cute when they goof around together. Mmm… locker room…
At this point it was my turn to be interviewed, and shortly thereafter my impure thoughts were duly punished. I don’t know if it was because the nurse who handled my donation lacked “the touch”, or because my right arm had blood drawn from it less than a week ago, but this donation hurt worse than any I can remember both during and for a couple hours after (and I’ve given about 40 times).
Unsurprisingly, Naughty Melle remains unapologetic.