Blood: Rookies

Two of the milkers hovered over me. One was training the other and checking on her work.

"Well, you've got to watch this," she said. "The tubing has to go this way past the silver thing." A technical term, to be sure. "Otherwise, it can cause a kink in the line."

The other woman nodded intently. Yes, she was getting this and I was wondering --um, what are you doing --and please tell me they aren't going to let you handle a needle today.

But no, the teacher was taking care of the heavy lifting. In this case, plunging a big, fat knitting needle into my tender, middle-aged arm.

The newbie watched as she slathered the inside of my elbow with iodine then plugged me in. There was very little pain. Just noticing, but only the young milkers actually cause any real pain. The others seem to be able to get past the scar tissue without making me want to crawl over the back of my seat.

Finished, she taped me up and looked at her young padawan and smiled. "See? Easy."

"Just like magic," I said and suddenly, the two of them were completely aware of my presence. They looked at me and smiled.

"Just like dark, evil magic," I told them and we all laughed.

It was funny because it's true.