Count Dracula’s original vision for the UK National Blood Transfusion Service was simple — Donors just went to sleep by an open window and the Count or one of his associates (ably assisted by fair henchwomen mounted on castors) took it from there.Yesterday this vision came one step closer to fulfilment at Prestwood, as Lucy and I got through in about 20 minutes with no queueing, thanks to a new preappointment system that works, er... really well.
Also, although the set up is still rather more makeshift and basic than the Count’s original conception, he is now serving orange carrot cake muffins in place of his traditional plain digestives. I knew the rot had set in ten years ago, when he introduced custard creams. Long blood donor queues haven’t been entirely without interest. Like fly fishing, you could wait all day for someone to fill up with embarrassment and flee before the rather intrusive questions on the card (“have you had a prostitute recently?” “have you ever had unprotected gay sex?” etc.) The Count has to be rather direct about such matters. We are, however, one step closer to his original plan’s elegant simplicity, even if the British aren’t quite ready yet for the ultimate donor-friendly experience:
