When I’m not thinking about food or napping, I’m thinking about how I’m going to die. Morbid, indeed. But it beats subway staring contests. And on this note, I’ve decided to share with you my list of what I consider to be the most embarrassing places to die, with input from my lovely co-workers. Sit back, crack open a can of fresca, and enjoy.
Location: Next to a McDonalds drive-thru window at 3 a.m.
Rationale: First, you were probably so drunk you tried to walk through a drive-thru. Second, picture for one second what your obituary notice will read. “Jenn was a spirited and friendly girl who enjoyed binge eating. She died doing what she loved most – dipping a fistful of fries into a strawberry shake.”
Location: The fitting room of an embarrassing clothing store like Stitches or Bluenotes or Jean Machine or Urban Planet (which I kind of like, actually, but still).
Rationale: Can you imagine? Like if this were some sort of hostage-taking situation I’d beg the guy with the gun to drag my lifeless body across the hall to H&M. At least it would be a step up.
Location: The bathroom of a Burger King on a Saturday night.
Rationale: You’re in the bathroom of a Burger King on a Saturday night. Did I really need to explain this one?
Location: A 24 –hour grocery store or convenience store, with a box of tampons and a carton of ice cream in your basket.
Rationale: Nothing screams BLOATED SINGLE GIRL like tampons and ice cream. Then again, I wouldn’t mind attending a funeral catered by 7-11.
Location: On the toilet. In the bathroom of an all-you-can-eat buffet restaurant.
Rationale: The sheer selection of possible causes of death multiplies exponentially when a buffet is involved.
Location: At the circus, moments after having your picture taken next to a tiger.
Rationale: Ask Roy. Actually, ask Siegfried because I think Roy may not be talking yet. Plus everyone would obsess overthat last photo of you, wondering if you saw it coming.
Rationale: Unless you were praying for death, it’s just too ironic. But I guess it saves everyone the hassle of attending a separate funeral service later on.
Location: In the chair of the Wal Mart hair salon.
Rationale: Dude, even Supercuts would be less embarrassing.
Location: Murdered while waiting in line for breakfast at McDonalds.
Rationale: The last thought that would pass through your mind would be “Fuck. I can’t believe this. All I wanted was a fucking egg Mc’Muffin.”
Location: During your own born-again Baptism.
Location: Sitting in the audience of a child’s beauty pageant.
Rationale: May as well slap a pedophile sticker to your coffin.
Location: Strip club.
Rationale: Your last memory will be of shelling out $20 for a lap dance from a bleached blonde named Candy who had cankles and caesarean scars.
Location: Ball pit full of children
Rationale: The coroner will be removing balls from your throat for about an hour. Kids are amazing that way.
Location: Any TGIFriday’s restaurant in Manhattan.
Rationale: Take my word for it.
Location: The parking lot of Chuck E Cheese’s. On your lunch break.
Rationale: Their mozzarella sticks weren’t worth it.