I thought my low blood pressure would make my life-long dream of being a travel blogger impossible – but then I realized it’s actually my biggest asset. For you cannot truly have an intimate understanding of a place until you’ve lain unconscious on its floor.
Last Place: The Roof of My Apartment Building.
Why was I all the way up on the roof? Good question! Getting high with my friends. Six floors high. Also with weed.
Inhospitably cold, damp and dirty. Not ideal for sitting and smoking, let alone fainting and not smoking. And dangerous! Imagine if I’d been standing a mere 15 feet to the left. When fainting, try to start out as close to the ground as you can – avoid heights!
My friends weren’t much help because they were, again, very high.
A thoroughly unpleasant experience, would not recommend it to anyone.
Comfort Level: Low. Embarrassment Level: High.
5th Place: The Metro North.
First, the perks of fainting on the Metro North: the seats are cushioned, the fall is much less risky, and the other passengers mostly leave you alone – they’re used to this sort of thing.
The negative side of fainting on a moving vehicle, as I’m sure you can imagine, is waking up somewhere other than your intended destination. For me, it was Connecticut at 3:30 in the morning. The cab ride home cost $122, took two hours, and was spent entirely in silence.
Comfort Level: Medium. Embarrassment Level: High.
4th Place: The Summer Camp Where I Used to Work.
Rookie mistake: don’t stand up too quickly after sitting cross-legged in 90-degree weather. The blood will rush out of your head and back into your legs, which will turn into spaghetti beneath you and send you to the ground.
No campers with me, which is good because I can’t imagine they would’ve been very supportive, being six years old.
As far as landing surfaces go, hot concrete isn’t my top choice. Then I was forced to march into my boss’s office to say, ‘Hello! I just collapsed and puked all over the blacktop.”’ Embarrassing announcement, but I was allowed to go home early that day. Score!
Comfort Level: Low. Embarrassment Level: Medium.
3rd Place: My Own Living Room While Playing Dungeons and Dragons on Discord.
Physically, I was in my apartment by myself. Mentally, I was in the haunted forest of Neldorthyr with six companions. But my Elf Druid had a higher constitution score than I do in the real world – she wouldn’t just collapse like that. So I’ll say it was just me alone in my living room. Not surrounded by bugbears, luckily. Unfortunately I missed both the rug and the couch a few feet away and rolled a natural 2 against the hardwood floor.
Comfort Level: Medium. Embarrassment Level: High, because I abandoned my party in a cursed forest.
2nd Place: My Gynecologist’s Examination Room.
I was in there for a routine check-up and hadn’t had a chance to eat lunch that day. It was cold, yes, and I didn’t love that I was wearing only a paper gown. But after fainting gently onto the cushioned exam table and then promptly throwing up into the palms of my hands, I was attended to by several nurses, one of whom handed me a juice box and some cheese crackers. Excellent service!
Comfort Level: High. Embarrassment Level: Medium.
1st Place: My Friend’s Parents’ House.
If this were a ranking of couches I’ve come across in my life, this one would easily crack the top three. Soft and big enough to sleep on, which I had been doing for several days as I’d been feeding their cat while they were on vacation. After fainting on their spotless bathroom floor, I took some ice cream from the freezer and made my way over to the couch where their beautiful white cat fell asleep on my lap. And they were paying me for all of this! What a dream. Would love to faint there again someday!
Comfort Level: High. Embarrassment Level: Low.
I watched Coyote Ugly for the first time a few weeks ago and it’s my new favorite bad movie. Highly recommend.