Blood and Cookies

I gave blood today. I can envision it on its journey through screens and filters, approved and waiting for its perfect moment to shine, growing stale and being sent to a research lab, then eventually playing a critical role in a prank carried out by tequila-soaked medical students. Even if it falls behind a fridge and is never used, I still get to feel good about it. Blind giving is glorious!

It was a fine cookie, but church lady cookies are better.

The story is what happened after I finished my cookies and stood up to leave.

There is a scene in movies where the con man says, "Hey, man! We went to college together! Remember me?" Then, "Uh, yeah, sure of course." Followed by, "Since we're such good friends, let me see those launch codes, okay?" Then, confined by a prison of social awkwardness, the mark hands over the codes to avoid the shame of not recognizing his supposed buddy.

Unlike movie guy, I've always prided myself on being honest about this sort of thing. "Remember me?" "No. Stranger danger!!!" Nobody is getting my launch codes. But, now I feel bad.

charlie: *stands up to leave*
stranger: "Charlie!"
charlie: *looks around, confused*
stranger: "Hey, I'm [forgotten]. I lived down the hall from you in the dorms."
charlie: "Okay. Well...yeah, I'm getting nothing."
[forgotten]: "I lived next to Chris Aagard. You came over sometimes."
charlie: "Huh, no."
[forgotten]: "Okay..."
charlie: "So, living in Manhattan, eh?"

That went on for a couple minutes before I fled. What I learned was this: The first time you say you don't remember somebody, it's fine. Emphasizing it by saying it again just makes you a jerk. It's slow work learning how to interact with humans one bungled exchange at a time.

In the good news column, I feel great! Last time I gave blood I felt weird for a while after and it interfered with the 10k I ran the next day. This time, I feel awesome.


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