I panicked a whole room

Flashback to 2 times
In 2001          I was with the best paralegal I ever knew,  the late Mike Sullivan.  I bought a pair of sunglasses.  I needed a pair badly but they had a small selection.  To my disgust, I bought a pair with a little image of the Bugs Bunny character, Tasmanian Devil. I told him how disgusted I was with the glasses.  For 1 of the very, very few times the late Mike Sullivan was wrong, he said, "there's a value in scaring others, maybe you'll scare people with those glasses."  Well, I think I lost them within a few months.


Spring, 1987       I was in the last semester of college.  I was student teaching going to graduate mid May.  So, I was with a couple of roommates.  They were tough guys who weight lifted a lot. They had a friend named Hotter that could beat us all up at the same time.  The other thing about my roommates is that they were heavily into fooling others including me.  
Thought popped into my head. 
Hotter was there (bigger than LIFE!). The tough roommates were there,,, the sprinter, the weight lifter. Weight lifter says, "what's happening Vince?"
I shrugged my shoulders, then non-chalantly replied, "I'm going to check into a mental institution.  I might be going crazy."
HOLY SHIT! cried the sprinter.
Damn! said the weight lifter.

Then there was Hotter, a guy who I always got along with, but who could break me in half in a few seconds.  "Oh, my God! Get away from me!  You scare the HELL out
of me!"
 

I was surprised....to say the least, "Oh.........Sorry, Hotter. No, guys, I'm just shittin' you.  I'm going to throw out the trash."
When I walked out to the dumpster they all ran to the balcony and stared at me.  Like.......I don't believe Vince!  He's not coming back!  He's not throwing the trash out; he's going to go in his car and we won't see him for awhile. 
The weight lifter even asked, "You're really gonna leave, aren't you, Vince?"
I just gave him a vacant smile. 

I walked back in with a shit-eating grin and looked at Hotter.

It doesn't hurt, DAMNIT!

I had a dilemma this morning.  I was supposed to be at a locksmiith's place in the morning.
The problem was that the bike trail (victim of Berwyn hit-n-run car accident 4/5/2017 so I use bike now  {then the next damn week my son is in a car accident that totally demolishes his Saturn}) was really long....longer than I thought it would be.

So there I was less than a half mile from the locksmith's place.....12 minutes late.  I was looking at going through a forest because he lived on 150th St. and the street fragmented in front of my bike.
I said, "The hell with it!  I'm not going around.  I know if I go through this forest it's only 1/2 mile at the most!"

I was better than right.  The forest was a block long. The forest was thick.  I had to pull my body up three feet with twigs snapping and tree branches with frickin briars on them. I experienced a little pain.  But, I then saw a RR track; I crossed it, no problem.  Then, I had to take 2 steps to cross a creek and go through 12 feet through another forest.  I called the locksmith; he had no problem with me being late.

He met me on his lawn; I gave him my mailbox key.  You know why I went to a locksmith?  I so damn tired of dickin' around wasting time at a hardware store b/c the stores near us don't make them good enough and you can't use the key.  So you have to shlep back to the damn store and get a refund or say, "TRY AGAIN"  Screw that!  I'm going to a locksmith.

So, I was outside waiting for him to make the keys.  I told him I didn't want to come inside his house, because my shoes were soaked from that creek I crossed.  Then I noticed 2 bad things.  I had a tree branch stuck to the back of my t-shirt...the LENGTH of my shirt.  Why was it stuck to my t-shirt?  The damn thing had briars.

Then I knew I felt a dull pain and looked up and noticed I was cut.

SHIT! It didn't even hurt!
Really......supposing we have the pain scale the 1-10 pain scale......1=someone is touching your skin
10 = your crotch is impaled with a 3 ft. lance
Mine was a 1.5

But there was a really rotten implication to my cut.  I make money giving plasma.  Same routine everytime:
1. Answer 40 yes/no ?s
2.  Do the screening where they check your arms, temp, blood pressure and hematocrit ratio.
3. Give blood.

100% certain that they would have inspected my arms, taken 1 look at the above cut and disqualify me.  I cleaned it up; I put triple antibiotic (featuring neosporin) on the cut. My blood was fine.
But the plasma I give them has to be pure.
They don't know how I got the cut.  A briar in the forest isn't going to contaminate my plasma.
But of course, the plasma center will assume the worst.  They'll figure I got into a fight with a guy that tipped a knife in feces first and then cut me.  Dang, they can't let anyone donate with that happening to them.

So, I gotta hope that Saturday, this cut is absolutely, completely 100% gone.  Better read up on the best way to get rid of a cut.  I also will prep for my interview Thursday.  I think I'll probably get the job.

If you know a way to get rid of cuts.............let me know.