I had blood work done two weeks ago at Qwest. It looked like a low-budget operation with a back-of-the-lot location, crummy neighborhood, cheap lobby and storefront.
Then, the magic began.
The little Asian nurse strapped me in and turned my arm over, ran her fingers over my forearm and said in a low, even voice,
'You have beautiful veins.'
I said, 'You say that to all the men who come in here.'
She said, in the same low tone, 'Only the ones who have beautiful veins.'
Now, I probably should have followed up with a witty line, gotten a date, met her in a dusty palm bar and exchanged national secrets, slipped on to a sailing ship at midnight and hauled in large quantities of illicit drugs or guns.
I pounded the pavement for a while looking for reasons to feel optimistic about health care.