* I did a study with blood thinners where they made me a hemophiliac then they gave me the blood THICKENING agent to see how fast it worked. It took two months of taking drugs to make me super leaky and all of five seconds for them to plug me up. Sounds dull? It was, but I made seven grand.
* I did a study with appetite suppressants where I lived in a plush comfortable room for four weeks surrounded by food and other fat people. They gave us a drug that was supposed to keep us from eating all that food. HA!!!... Stupid scientists. We all got fatter. Four grand fatter.
* A long time ago I did a study for an allergy drug where they had us sit outside for eight hours until we were all puffy and miserable then they gave us the drug to see how it worked on us. It was all ruined when a rainstorm prematurely ended the study. We got paid but the allergy facial explosion was horrible. So was the pay, three hundred bucks.
* I did a study where I was observed smoking for a full day. I loved that study. Paid about the cost of two cartons of American Spirits.
* And the last study I did for money was a series of interviews about my sexual "appetites." It was a fun study. I got... paid.
All of these I did for the money; I whored out my body to make some cash. And I'm not ashamed. But, what's sad is that I have whored myself for other things and DIDN'T make a dime. Now that is some cheap ho-in'!!! I'm not proud of these moments but I must confess I do like trying new things.
I was first employed as a pro bono crash test dummy when I was a kid and my father was in medical school. He was learning acupuncture, reflexology and other osteopathic techniques and he needed someone to practice on. It was a lot like being Spock's lab partner while he was learning his famous sleeper hold. My father is an excellent doctor (or was - he retired) because he spent all of his spare time learning about new healing methods and honing the manual applications. He is a pure healer if ever there was such a thing, and to be a pure healer you need to hone your skills. Patients are hesitant to pay to be a crash test dummy; and my dad couldn't afford to pay anyone to be a dummy, so he turned to his children.
Before I continue I would like to point out that if you have ever been asked to try someone's cooking who doesn't know how to cook - or is learning, then you know what it means to whore yourself out to science. It's not all glorious work. I have learned that I am NOT a good food taster. I can do a lot of things but food is one of those places that I don't like to experiment. It's well-known that I once ate dog. Once. But that was a different place and time. Now I stick to a diet I like to call, "Foods I like that don't tear me up inside." I don't want to try your Banana soup, or your turtle bacon, or your armadillo toes wrapped in cilantro. I just won't do it. I have had too many meals ruined by experimental "foodie" cooking.
One year my father decided to ruin Easter by only using candy and chocolates he bought from a health food store. Lots of carob instead of chocolate. Lots of hard candy made from honey. Not one delicious piece of candy... and thus my hatred of "healthy alternatives" was born.
If you look around your life; the computer you're reading this on; the clothes you're wearing; the lights in your room; the car you drive or your favorite candy - all of it required a crash test dummy to make sure it was acceptable for human use. Someone had to try it out. Like all those monkeys you hear about in labs who have to wear make up before they can sell it to women. Sadly, the only thing that doesn't get a crash test dummy is pop music. It's just thrust upon us and we all have to feel the pain. I want Taylor Swift to date a massive 55 year old black man just so I can hear how that break up song goes.
Over the years, I have been asked to listen to friend's music, hear their new jokes, read their poetry, eat their food, or participate in their odd sexual fetishes. I let a young woman give me a tattoo - her first on human skin. I let a few friends cut my hair while they were in beauty school. I even let one girl give me a shave with a straight razor - she had never done it before. I went to have my teeth cleaned at a Junior College dental school.. Only once and never again.
In Emergency Medical Technician school we had to use each others' bodies to practice emergency treatments for both traumas and illnesses. Think splinting, IV insertions and extractions from cars. Sadly, not once did I get to use the defib machine. I have always wanted to yell, "clear!" and then watch a lifeless body jump. They said it would be dangerous to use it on a live patient. I thought that if something bad were to happen, well, we had a full class of people fully prepared to fix the problem. Win win.
I have allowed myself to be used for crystal energy healing, odd religious and/or magic ceremonies (anything to get laid), and as a "stand-in" parent, boyfriend or boss when someone felt they needed to practice saying something important. It feels like being a sparring partner for an up and coming fighter.
Lately I am a massage school crash test dummy. Anyone can do this. It doesn't pay but you do get a free hour long massage. And unlike offering your fragile and sensitive mouth to a dental college, or your bouncin' and behavin' hair to a beauty school, getting a massage has very little chance of sucking.
Ever had a colonoscopy? I wonder who had the misfortune of offering up their ass for that little dance before they figured it out.
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