It hit me about three months ago, as I stood in a room surrounded by dozens of very handsome, very driven and mostly, very good men.
“This is where it’s at…” I whispered to myself. How had I not thought of it sooner? A place 15 minutes from my house, free, and full of copious amounts of snack foods.
The entire six seasons of Sex and the City could have been reduced to one, quite straightforward scene, if the women had only known such a place exists.
And now here I was, in on the secret.
You want to know where all the good men (and women, depending on your preference) are hanging out?
They’re at the goddamn blood bank. Giving their blood. And maybe even their plasma. To other people. Because they’re generous.
Honestly, put a picture of some of the guys I saw with their sleeves rolled up and a needle hanging out of their arm on a billboard, and blood donations would increase by four thousand per cent.
Just look at Lincoln Lewis. Mmmm.
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#Repost @linc_lewis ・・・ I’ve wanted to give blood for ages & I don’t know why it’s taken me this long but stoked to have finally done it today with @redcrossbloodau . They’ve decked their buses during #Origin time & let me walk away with this cool little “I bled for QLD” bandage ???? It’s a pretty special feeling knowing you’ve contributed to helping others and I definitely wish I’d have done this a lot sooner but if anyone wants to donate blood & help defs go do itttt ????????
But it’s not (only) about how they look.
You could find a good-looking man at a bar or on Tinder in five minutes, and you wouldn’t even have to hand over any blood if you didn’t want to.