Giving Until It Hurts Feelings

I was thinking today about an interesting episode from my college years, during which time I didn't have a whole lot happen for myself, but which did produce one or two stories. This was one that I thought was good. I was at the time very civic-minded, and apart from being virulently political, I was more generous than I ought to have been where charity was concerned. I joined the IWW (which I would call a charity case), Amnesty International, and the ACLU (which, ten years later, still occasionally sends me my final membership statement).

I also gave blood. I did that once. A donation center was set up in my dorm building one day, and while I was nervous about the idea, I could see no excuse to not give blood. I went down and found that the giving was robust enough that I would have to wait. I did so, and I got a bit bored. I think it was while filling out paperwork that I started making smart remarks. I was not just bored, but nervous as well, and making jokes settles me a little. While receiving stitches once, I recall making a joke about malpractice.

I thought my jokes were funny, but they rubbed one donor the wrong way. I guess she must have been more nervous than I was, or at least her nerves could not be dealt with in the same way as mine. I guess that I can see how laughing and talking about what bad things might happen as a consequence of giving blood might not do it for everybody. I never did see myself as the sort for every person's taste, and that was evidence enough.

I haven't given blood since then, but I have read about donation events happening near me. Maybe I would be up for it sometime. Probably I would not be able to help making jokes again, but the people around me these days are more receptive to humor, and I think I'm better at it than I was in college. If the same scenario happened now, maybe it would end with me getting a date instead of getting yelled at like I did that day.