If you know me, you know I'm not a joiner. I don't go to church because I love Jesus, but not his fanclub. I knit, but not in circles. I mourn the decline of Oddfellows, Moose and Elks (even though they're supposed to be making a come back) but I wouldn't join them anyway. But today all that changed. I joined the gang at Guys Who Hate Guys Who Wear Garden Clogs. I was at the blood institute making my triweekly donation of platelets when this really annoying guy came in. He's toying with 60, tall, thin (very distrustful qualities) and he's one of those people who get really comfortable somewhere because they have nowhere else to be and acts like he owns the place or worse yet, like he works there. I see it all the time at the Last Public Place in America. They come behind the desk or they ask to use the stapler once and before you know it you're witnessing a progression from habit to constititutional right. Well anyway this guy, who obviously has no post-retirement life, plops down in the couchy thing and gets set to give. OK, one of the awesome things about donating - besides saving lives - is that you get a full array of free snacks and an overstocked fridge with every imaginable non-potent potable. Well this guy brought his own snacks - granola and grapes. That is just wrong on so many levels. And then he starts in on Chilean grapes. And then I see them. He stretches out and he has on beige plastic garden clogs. You know the ones. With the slingback. The ones like Genie and other middle-aged women wear. I don't care how comfortable they are. That is just so wrong on so many levels.
Meanwhile there's me and a really attractive fortyish businesswoman in there about to finsh. After she leaves he asks the nurse who's the woman, is she a regular, what does she do? She seems really familiar he says. "I do lots of volunteering, though, so I could've seen her anywhere," he says. Please. That is just stalker codetalk. And the nurses told him everything about her. As a nominal protector of three, I got really angry with all of them. I asked the nurse, isn't that a HIPAA violation or something and she says oh he's harmless. He comes in here all the time, he's one of our biggest donors. So now I'm a member of the GWHGWWGC.
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I'll bite. I'm thinking I'm regretting telling you today how much I like your blog. It's true that I am a middle-aged woman, but don't be throwing it up on the blog. And, you know, as an honorary member of the other team, I have to keep up my membership by wearing comfortable shoes, as Robin Williams says in "Good Morning Viet Nam." So, there. Mission accomplished. And I'm missing the "by the numbers" postings, by the way.
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