Tetris x Red Cross
Consequential encounters *from the archive*
[Written May 2024]
The Red Cross recently announced a thrilling collaboration with Tetris: Anyone who donates between May 20 and June 9 receives an exclusive Tetris® x Red Cross T-shirt (while supplies last). Additionally, all donors are entered to win a trip for two to New York City to meet the inventor of Tetris, Alexey Pajitnov.1
The promotion lands serendipitously on my donation eligibility date. It is also my 21st donation, during the 21st week of the year. 21 is my lucky number. I originally schedule my donation for May 21, then switch to May 22 due to extenuating circumstances. (I’m going surfing on the 21st and don’t want to faint in the ocean.)
May 22 is the hottest day of the year so far by far. I ooze through Chinatown in a black linen dress on the shady side of the street listening to a short story by Marguerite Duras. Across traffic, I see a man who looks to be not from the United States standing outside a Chinese herb store. He wears jeans, a long-sleeve shirt, and a winter jacket. He is on the sunny side of the street. His wardrobe is so incongruous and his countenance is so resigned that the sight of him is abruptly tragic and brutal.
At the Red Cross, I debate saying something to the woman who takes my blood pressure then finally say, “Claudia is such a pretty name.” She smiles. She says thanks. A moment later she says, “My daughter’s name is Emily.”
I read four-ish pages of Philip Roth while intermittently squeezing an Earth-shaped ball and getting my blood sucked by a machine. As she winds red gauze around my arm Claudia says, “We have T-shirts.” I say, “I’m very excited about the T-shirts.”
At the snack table a man is perched on a chair with both legs tucked up under him. His legs are pretty hairy. Another man asks, diminutively, why he donates platelets instead of straight blood. (Platelet donation is longer and more intensive.) The hairy-leg man says, “I’m not using them.” A woman enters the area and notices the lack of chairs. She says she’ll sit on the floor, and does.
Minutes later the hairy-leg man stands up. “I didn’t mean to monopolize the snack table!” (His phone, paperwork, and an unidentifiable electronic device do cover a good portion of the table.) We all say it’s okay. I hesitate, then say, “You know the technical name for it is the ‘canteen?’” And we laugh, all of us; strangers sitting around drinking juice boxes. The floor woman says it must be a relic from the Red Cross’ military legacy.
I take not one, but two T-shirts. (One for my aunt, who donated right before the Tetris promotion started.)
On the walk home, I deliberately walk on the sunny side of the street. I approach the man in jeans. He holds out his hand. It’s the high-five setup. I give him a high five and I look in his eyes. I walk on, concerned, unsure if I’ve just insulted him. If he was holding out his hand for something else.
Update: I did not win the trip to NYC to meet Tetris inventor Alexey Pajitnov.