Memo to the local Red Cross Chapter:
Stop calling to beg me for blood.
I know where you are and I’ll give you a pint when it suits me, but these phone calls every few days are really pissing me off.
So far, I’ve spared your feelings by not picking up the phone when Caller ID says: AMER RED CROSS
But if it keeps up, I’m going to get snarky and neither of us wants that.
I knew this was going to happen when I donated last year at a blood drive organized by Maria’s paper. Once you get into their Rolodex, they’ll hound you forever. I have absolutely no interest in joining the multi-gallon club, or whatever they call it.
And, no, I’m not one of those pussies who’s afraid of needles. My mother was a nurse and needles don’t mean shit to me. I just resent the hell out of being bothered.
2 comments:
Tell them you lived in Germany or England for awhile during the Mad Cow scare. It disqualifies you from ever donating again. You can look up the specifics on their website. No documentation required.
Brilliant! Thanks!
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