The Next Big Thing

Saw the refurbished City Hall in Glasgow on TV and was reminded of seeing AC/DC there on their first UK tour (maybe 1973?). It was sponsored by Sounds and it was 75p to get in as I recall. Angus’ crew segue me nicely into the following rant which I’ll call “If You Want Blood” in testament to their live album some years later.

I went to “Give Blood” the other day. They could have taken it all and done me a favour but just took a pint. My service to the wider community and all that but donating blood, like most other activities in life, has become a chore. Something that is done in the spirit of helping people that’s fallen victim of a system gone haywire. You’re asked to read info and mark tick boxes and are grilled some more. The one that “processed” me was lacking any signs of social grace. Plus it’s been moved from the local town hall to the sports centre. When I finally got to the donating area it was like lying in one of those refugee centres you see on the TV after some kind of disaster. I hate sports halls and don’t care much for the critters that cut about inside them decked out in their garb either. In fact I actively avoid such individuals. Some of them might be perfectly agreeable but I’m not taking any chances. Anyway, one is left feeling like they’re doing you a favour by taking a pint of your probably infected blood. All done in the supposed interests of safety, I know. That’s what they tell you anyway but their front line rotweilers aren’t winning any charm school awards and if they’re putting me off then I’d imagine others are also thinking “fuck this for a game of soldiers”.

“We don’t start until 2 o’ clock” one of them grunts. Fine I nod thinking all the time, What’s it to you? I’m happy to wait. I didn’t ask you, I like to be punctual. I like to get in and get the heck out. You got a problem with that? But I manage to restrain any outburst and just wait. It’ll all be over soon enough. Hopefully. But anyway, I’ll think twice about ever going back. Particularly if they stick with that venue. Maybe I’ll visit one of their town centre places, see if it’s just the travelling posse that are so frozen faced. In the good old days, the blood bus would come to your place of employment. I’ve given something like 60 pints over the years. But now, like everything else in this country, it’s all going down the pan. Good manners cost nothing but lack of them may well result on them being a donation shy next time they hit this back arse-end of beyond.