Kinky Pinky

drillbit
Danielle Shi/Staff

“Baker Hughes, a manufacturer of equipment used in hydraulic fracturing, has painted 1,000 of its drill bits breast-cancer pink (the usual color is gold) and also donated $100,000 to Susan G. Komen Race for the Cure, a leading breast-cancer charity.”

— Los Angeles Times

 

They painted my tip pink.

“For Breast Cancer Awareness,” they said.

I said I didn’t think people who wanted to be made more aware of cancer usually hung out around fracking sites. But they didn’t listen to me. They never listen to me.

They just use me for my drill bit.

To be honest, I’ve always felt squeamish about people referring to my drill as a “bit.” It makes my bit sound, well, bitty.

I remember when I first heard the rumors about a “special modification.” I assumed they were going to make my piece larger, stronger, more durable. Or maybe they’d make me “eco!” Mother Earth would love that.

Instead, the frackers just painted my bits pink.

Initially, I was devastated. I’d rather be circumcised! I thought the covering might decrease my performance. I’d heard that fracking feels different when there’s a sheath involved, as supposed to unobstructed penetration. But on my end, nothing has changed at all.

Not so for Mother Earth. She’s been rumbling since I got the new digs. It’s practically seismic.

I told her to contain herself — that if her shakes kept measuring above 6 on the Richter Scale (more like sticked-her scale), the Feds might shut down our plant indefinitely.

“Earth told me it was out of her control: as though somebody ‘pulled a trigger’ that made ‘something inside snap!’ ” From there, she said, it was “up to nature” when the convulsing would stop.

It’s like they always say, “Once you go pink, you never rethink.”

Then, a few days ago, they started painting a lot of us black for global warming awareness. After the switch, Earth became pretty distant. She seemed preoccupied, distressed — even when we fracked.

I asked what was wrong.

“You’ve changed,” she said.

“Obviously,” I said.

“It depresses me to look at you,” she said. “Maybe we should take a break.”

I told her to not come crawling back if they painted me yellow for spina bifida awareness. She said not to be insensitive.

I thought we’d probably get back together. But when Earth didn’t call while I was green for mental health awareness, I knew that I had to move on. Latest I heard is she’s fracking with another tool.

It’s not all bad, though. I got really into domestic violence awareness last month and started a “Bits Stop Hits” campaign. It’s generated a lot of hype. I think I might even take some time off from fracking.

Because at the end of the day, I just want to make a positive impact in the world — one color at a time.

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