All logic lost

September 1, 2013 1134

            “You know what really bothers me?”  Joe sat in the front seat as we drove down the road.  He explained that in 1967 his father bought a trailer in Indiana and always took care of the roof.  “The roof is all rusty and I know it leaks.”

            “Did you Google map it?...with that satellite view”

            “Yes”

            “1967 is before you were born.”

            “But they are not taking care of the roof.”

            How do you argue with that logic?  All of the logic yesterday made no sense.  Earlier that day we all drove up to donate blood.  When I say “we all” I am referring to myself, The Goat Man, my friend Kat, her man Joe, and their son.  The Goat Man and I are occupying their couches for the moment.

            After waiting in the hot sun somewhere between a half hour and an hour we finally made it into the bus to donate.  Joe and I were able to donate, Kat was unable and The Goat Man was turned away.  He was turned away because his ID is expired.

            I sat in the chair answering the ladies questions about my address.  Apparently she was not ok with my Michigan driver’s license.  Is there a problem with donating blood when you are on vacation?  Anyway, Kat sat across the bus giving the lady my address information.  It was obvious I didn’t know where I lived or my phone number.  But I was allowed to donate blood.

            The Goat Man presented an Id that had expired, but had three witnesses’ to who he is, a social security card and other identifying information and was turned away.

            “He is a universal donor.  You want his blood.”  I was very forward.

            “We want everyone’s blood.”  She snapped as she tossed The Goat Man out into the hot sun.  Well, apparently not everyone’s blood.

            Later the group discovered that the woman with the huge feet had just been released from jail and she was allowed to donate.  Where is the logic in that?  Turn away a universal donor who had received calls on numerous occasions to donate while begging for everyone’s blood?

            I bet you are wondering about the woman with the really huge feet.  While in line The Goat Man was examining feet size.  I told you there was no logic yesterday.  He was very concerned, excited, enthralled at the woman’s feet.  He whispered to all of us in line that her feet were bigger than his size thirteen feet.  I maintained she was in a family of clowns, but he insisted she was wearing sandals. 

            If she had been wearing the expected clown shoes I would have noticed her feet, but since it was just sandals they slipped right past me.  So, we must take The Goat Man’s word for it.