I can only imagine what the eight year old girl must have thought standing in the doorway of the indoor soccer center bathroom door that smelled strongly like cheap bubblegum. There, lying motionless on the floor was a grown woman, eyes closed, not moving, and there was no one else in the room. She opened her mouth and screams erupted, quickly shaking the woman from her dazed state on the floor who could only slump over, up slightly, to see what was making such a horrendous noise. The sudden movement from the woman on the floor seemed to only startle her more, not pacify her in the slightest. An older woman rounded the corner and placed her hand on the young girl’s shoulder snapping her out of her screaming fit that were now echoing off the walls. She ran off. Quiet.
In reality, the woman on the floor was me today and the piercing screams from the young girl were what woke me up from a sudden and unexpected fainting spell at my daughter’s soccer game. And there is nothing more embarrassing than fainting in a public place. Sadly, it’s an unfortunate occasional habit of mine. The older woman who came in just behind her, helped me to my feet and situated me in a chair that she grabbed to set right inside the door before going and getting my mother who would eventually get me out of the bathroom and back to the game mostly intact.
As I passed the little girl on my way to the field, she was as white as I had just been moments before and she couldn’t take her eyes off of me as I passed by. I assure you that in her version of the story she’ll tell later, she found a corpse, not an unconscious woman on that bathroom floor. A corpse who came back to life at the sound of her screams. That is a birthday party she won’t soon forget. I can only imagine the flashbacks she’ll have every time she gets a whiff of bubblegum…
[Writer’s Note: I assure you that the story is meant to be taken as what it was in the moment, quite humorous. Embarrassing moments are meant to be shared. I am fine and fully recovered. Other than a headache from hitting my head on the way down, and a slightly stiff neck, I am completely okay. We all long to leave a legacy, and I believe that for one little girl, I may have left an indelible one. I’ll forever be the faceless, nameless woman who rose from the dead before her very eyes in the Bubblegum Bathroom.]