I AM NOT A BLOOD BANK.

Earlier today I answered a very accusatory phone call. Seems the gentleman on the other end of the phone was pretty severely irritated that I was not the blood bank.

Seems he wanted to make an appointment.

Unfortunately, I had to tell him that I have never been the blood bank, nor do I ever intend to trade in other people's bodily fluids, especially not vital ones. AB, O+, HTML, ADHD,- I know nothing about it.

As far as I know you can just walk right into a blood bank and give away some extra blood without an appointment. I also understand that they will then trade you, say $25-$40 for that blood, along with a delicious cookie and a refreshing paper cup full of orange drink.

Unfortunately, I was also fresh out of delicious cookies and am generally free of any drink whose name is also what color it is.

I suppose I could have gone ahead and made an appointment for him. But finding my imaginary blood bank would have undoubtedly proven difficult, seeing as how it doesn't exist, and when he arrived, I wouldn't have had any idea what to do for the duration of his visit. I don't have any bloodletting equipment, though I would've been happy to jam a pie server into his forearm, or maybe a fistful of dull pencil nubs into his upper thigh. I do have an old cottage cheese tub I took my lunch to work in once that I could collect the drippings into. Unfortunately, I've just remembered that I don't actually own a pie server. Pencil nubs it would have to be.

Ah well. Hopefully that guy didn't call fifteen more places, yelling at them for not being the blood bank. I've been yelled at for worse, certainly. But somewhere, deep down, maybe I should've been the blood bank for that guy. Maybe I'm the one at fault, here. Maybe that's what I'm missing in my life: I am not a blood bank.