Spirited Silliness

Halloween is nearly here. Last year's adorable pop-up kitten was not on display at the local elementary school this year. [Bummer.]

There was one person ahead of me as I surveyed the scene this morning. The hall was festooned with webs and fake spiders, in preparation for a special event (I presumed). Then I noticed the woman at the intake table, her hair in plastic rollers and her face smeared with cold cream. [Yes, I'm old enough to know what that's about.] She checked off my name and offered a chocolate truffle. Right after breakfast? Sure, why not ...

“Albert” approached—a man with wild white hair, a bushy mustache, and a name tag noting E=mc² explained today's Blood Drive Olympics: estimate how much time it would take to donate your pint (within seconds) and win a gift card.

This was not your run-of-the-mill blood drive.

There was a flapper in a sequined sheath, and a reverend. Perhaps he frightened Count Dracula away? [Not a single vampire in sight.]

Apparently this group of volunteers has been hosting this event for many years; a couple of them spent hours, last night, decorating the hall. A dealer was set up at a blackjack table to entertain any waiting donors if things backed up.

My time estimate fell short, but following a consultation between Einstein and the reverend, I was granted a dispensation and awarded my prize.

The “special event” was us!