Wal-Mart on a Friday night

Can you smell it?  Mmmm, the sweet aroma of camo, crack, and fatties.  Welcome to the melting pot that is Rossville.  For a moment, you may suspect that you accidentally ended up at the local Wal-Mart, but upon closer inspection, you are indeed where you intended to be.  The Rossville Plasma Center.  Yes, this is the place where the woman with meth mouth will try desperately to tell you the cure for a gray spot on your scalp (it's eye shadow by the way); the place where people "can't keep [their] shoes tied to save [their] life."  This is the home of the Plasma Weight Loss Program (giving fluids is a great alternative to working out).  Truly a place of wonders.  I found myself here today in hopes of simply getting some grocery money, but the experience turned out to be far more valuable.  Through my four hour endeavor, I was able to connect with the local culture and learn what it truly means to be from Rossville (I mostly just sat in a corner and eavesdropped). 

These are my scientific research findings. 

One woman had a lot of great things to talk about.  For example, I learned that she's not bipolar and she's not a crazy person, but if she has to, she will defend herself.  They don't believe in self defense in Tennessee, but in Texas (where she is from) you can stab a man.  Also, at Wal-Mart, this boy was circling her buggy so she called 911 and the police never showed up.  I learned a lot and was reluctant to leave this area to actually give plasma, but that turned out to be quite enjoyable as well. 
The rundown:  This place is packed with people, all of them are quite chatty (and sketchy), the kid next to me starts getting a big bubble on his arm (blew my mind!), they stick his other arm and he keeps going, he starts talking about how all he ate was 2 sausage biscuits and 3 energy drinks (which apparently leads to bubble-arm and plasma that looks like a cold-grease milkshake),  the lady sticks my arm, goes through the vein and into my arm, pops the needle back out a little (yeh, it popped out),  I bled out in 30 minutes and left.  This was one of the most uncomfortable experiences ever!  The kicker:  the fatter you are, the more money you make.  I got ripped off due to my overwhelmingly athletic physique.  Moral of the story: I need a job because this simply will not do.