What Cubicles Will Do to You

I was just thinking this morning, as I entered the ladies' room and had a brief moment of light-headedness, that it would be kinda funny if I were to pass-out and clock my head on the tile just hard enough to bleed profusely (because head wounds bleed more heavily than the rest of the body), and then someone walked in and, with shock and horror, thought that they'd stumbled upon the scene of a crime (rather than someone fainting) and began shouting, MURDER! FOUL PLAY! with their hand held tremulously over their mouth while another person or two nearby swooned as they stumbled onto the scene, and then British ambulances were sent for and they made those weird and distinctively British ambulance siren noises that they make (which I found out just recently is because they used to sound too similar to air raid sirens which would freak the shit out of people, so they adjusted the sirens to their current bizarre wail*) and then right before they almost mistakenly declared my time of death, I let out a big gasp and sat up, and everyone cheered and champagne and cigars got passed around.


----------
*from Bitch Magazine, May 2006 issue. Footnoted included primarily to make Mr. Living Next Door to Myself full of footnote-envying angst again.

-------