Blood: Lucky 13

"I guess I'll be back a lot now." She smiled and tried to sound cheery. "I'm broke."

The probably former metal head turned milker nodded, but completely missed what she was saying.

"Well, you've only been gone a month," he said. "It shouldn't take you any longer to get out of here."

"No," she said. "I didn't come in for a month. I tried not coming in, but there just wasn't any money."

He nodded. He understood.

"Well, you picked a good time to come back. There are new rates and after your 5th visit, you get an extra ten bucks."

She nodded. Sure, the rates had been increased and would be based on body weight. The little scrawny types weren't getting anything and in fact, might be losing a few bucks. Those of us over 175 pounds stood to collect an extra 20 bucks a week, which certainly helps a little.

"Yeah, that's great..."

"I wish I could donate," the milker said and I'd wondered about that. "But they won't let us. I'd do it on my lunch break -twice a week, then go back to work."

He said that, but I had a hard time believing it. So, I think, did the girl.

The whole scene reminded me how I told one of the tech's upfront (not technically a milker since they don't actually do the blood work) about how this wasn't a career move for me. She looked at me with dead eyes and said, "I hear you," but I don't think she believed it.

One of these days this will be over. Hopefully, I'll be out in about a year (or roughly 100 donations), but right now I'm only at 13.