“I had an exciting blood test this morning. After digging around inside my vein with a needle for an eternity, I finally began to go into shock. ‘Tell me if this hurts,’ said the phlebotomist. I screamed in agony. “Look, didn’t you see that I was recently diagnosed with onset vampirism? My blood only flows at night!”

“Tell me if this hurts,” she repeated. I began to change into a bat, but the shock was too much. “Ok, I feel like I am dying right now. I think I am going to die.”

“Here, let me ram this needle into another vein, since my first mistake has become catastrophic.” Oh, thank you, gods of blood drawing, for hooking me up with someone who couldn’t suck cherry juice from a cup with a straw.

“Ok,” I said. I screamed again, as she rammed the needle the wrong direction into another tender vein. “Right, I really think I am dying now. My stomach is cramping up, I am soaked in sweat, and I can only see flashing star patterns.”

They called the nurse. She said “Oh, yes, I think this guy had problems before.” I said, “No, actually we’ve never met and I have never had any problems with a blood draw, ever.”

“Oh, ok, let me measure your blood pressure.” She takes me in another room and sets up the sleeve. I think I am going to die. “Look, I am in shock. Straight up.”

“The device isn’t working right (my blood pressure was like 60/30).” “Unfortunately, I think it is.”

“Ok, let me take it again.”

“Vampires only have dust in our veins during daylight,” I explained. She looked at me funny and I considered employing the hypnotic neck bite process, but she wasn’t really that desirable as prey. Besides, I already felt sick.

“Just get that phlebotomist back in here and give her an oaken spike so she can ram that into my heart and put me out of my misery.” She looked at me strangely again and started to measure my BP once more. Still terrible.

I lay down in the room, turned out the light, and imagined the rising moon. I fucking love modern medicine. Especially the stabby parts.”

— Bobby Yingo at the Red Room