I met Amy at a blood drive in the lobby of our office building. We worked for different companies on different floors and had never bumped into each other before, but that day, the blood bank had their donation site set up with two rows of reclining donation chairs on opposite sides of the main lobby hallway. I was called to the chair facing directly across from the one where Amy's phlebotomist had just finished setting her up. We didn't make eye contact as I sat down and presented my arm for an alcohol swab and sphygmomanometer, but even with our masks on (stupid COVID) she was vaguely familiar. I turned my attention to the instructions of my phlebotomist, who handed me a small foam ball to "squeeze three times and hold" as he deftly inserted the needle. The phlebotomist was clearly experienced; it was a minor pinch compared to some needle sticks I've received.
Amy was clearly a first-timer; I saw her wince as she watched my needle go in. I couldn't help but smile at this, noticing that she seemed stiff and nervous in her own chair, timidly squeezing her foam ball every few seconds. We made eye contact for a instant - her rapt concern broke into embarrassment and we both looked away. I kept squeezing, breathing calmly to help the blood flow into the bag, but I kept sensing Amy watching me through her gold-rimmed glasses. It's not every day that you find yourself confined to a cold, reclining chair directly across from someone else, both connected to apparatus collecting steady streams of blood. It didn't seem like it should have been an awkward situation, but the din of the office lobby with machines beeping and blood bank staff bustling about wasn't the place to directly acknowledge Amy's attention and strike up a conversation. Instead, I sheepishly looked at the base of her chair, then her shoes, then the foam ball in her hand, trying to tell from my peripheral vision whether she was still watching me.
She was. I turned my head to look at her, determined to offer a friendly smile rather than my bemused first one, and she locked eyed with me. Again, with masks on, I could see a radiance as she smiled back at me. Her green eyes squinted along with her smile - one of my favorite traits in a woman - and she nodded, "hello."
"Hi, there," I nodded back. "You doing okay?" I gestured the 'okay' sign with my free hand and raised my eyebrows.
"Yeah," she gave a thumbs up, nodding and blinking slowly.
"This is taking forever, huh?" I sarcastically rolled my eyes and squeezed my foam ball rapidly.
Amy laughed out loud. She had an adorable, hiccupping laugh which shook her whole body in the reclining chair. As the laugh subsided, she looked more relaxed, which I knew was going to help her donation process.
The moment that followed was not quite the equivalent of an uncomfortable silence. Nevertheless, it was drawing out too long, so I used my fingers to flick the foam ball from my left hand up and over to my right.
Amy laughed again. Success. This time, I noticed her chest heave in addition to her effervescent, squinting green eyes. She patted the side of her teal sailor pants in applause. I could tell she had toned legs.
I placed the foam ball back in my left hand. I looked back at her and twiddled my fingers, rolling the ball around between squeezes.
She cocked an eyebrow at this, and I thought for a moment that I miscommunicated something, but she nodded down at her hand and started rolling her own foam ball around in her fingers. Her method was slower, and I sensed deliberately so. She exaggerated her movement, caressing the ball in a familiar way.
It was my turn to laugh out loud, albeit just as my phlebotomist stopped by to check on my progress. "You're about halfway there," he said, "everything's looking good. Everything feeling good?"
"Yep," I replied, and the phlebotomist turned around to check Amy.
"You're almost done," I heard him say. "I'll be right back."
I was ready to wave goodbye to Amy and simply look forward to seeing her in the building someday later, but she looked back at me as if to say, "now, where were we?" She resumed fondling - yes, fondling - the foam ball and I saw her lick her lips in a way which she meant to be visible through her mask.
My jaw dropped and I felt my cheeks suddenly blushing. It was playful conversation, but the clock was now ticking on Amy's donation process and she was ardently flirting. She ran her free hand along her leg, suddenly digging her nails in and hiking up her pant leg. She winked at me, igniting a rare excitement in my loins. The blood collection monitor I was connected to beeped.
The phlebotomist returned on cue with a pack of gauze, and inspected my monitor. "You're slowing up a bit," he said, fiddling with it and checking the tubes. "Not to worry, just keep chilling."
As he turned to Amy, I saw her cleverly make a stroking motion with the foam ball in her hand, squeezing it sultrily while the phlebotomist's attention was on her equipment in preparation to disconnect her. She looked down and must have seen the swelling on the inside crotch of my pant leg, because her eyes widened. She looked back up at me with what was undoubtedly a satisfied smirk.
I didn't quite know what to do as the phlebotomist withdrew the needle from Amy's arm, applied the gauze, walked her through the disconnection process, and directed her to the snack area where donors were instructed to relax and hydrate after their donation.
Amy stood up from the donation chair and waved at me as she walked past. I waved back and watched as she cheekily strutted around the corner to the snack area, shooting me a glance just as she disappeared.
My my blood collection monitor beeped a few more times over the next ten minutes, much to the phlebotomist's consternation, but I was eventually bandaged and directed to the snack area. As I stood up, I felt a tad lighter in the head than usual. I felt a great deal tighter in my pants, and I tried to carefully adjust myself and walk down the hall and around the corner.
I wasn't sure that Amy would even still be there when I arrived, but she was wrapping up a bag of crisps and a bottle of Gatorade. With her mask dangling from one ear, it was a revelation when she looked up and smiled at me. Perfect teeth, nose ring, and all. I grabbed a bag of crisps and a bottle of water and sat down at the table at the nearest physically-distanced chair.
"I'm Amy, by the way," she chirped.
"I'm Sam," I said, "and it's probably obvious that I'm pleased to meet you."
We laughed and made small talk while I briskly drank my water and put the bag of crisps in my jacket pocket.
"What are you up to after this?" I asked.
"Whatever you have in mind," Amy replied laughing, "seriously though, I took today off work because I thought I would be useless after giving blood."
