i thought i was so well rehearsed in hungover travel i'd be impervious to the ill effects of flying after getting absolutely shitfaced and not sleeping. oh but no.

i was half asleep on the plane, started to get all sweaty and woozy. i was too out of it to realize what was happening, i just had a general "shit what is this i've been here before and i just know this sucks" kind of feeling. i got up because i have no idea why, and basically dropped dead there. i was given hindu cow oxygen and basically a full medical: there were tons of eager doctors on board who were brutally elbowing each other to access me to run tests, any tests. over-enthusiastic doctor lady #1 who was seated nearby started by checking my pulse, which was great because i, not being a medical professional, would never have thought that maybe, just maybe, the cause of my fainting was death. turned out my blood pressure is like sixty over five and the german 70's leftover blutglucose hobby kit (something wicked this way comes!) pegged my blood "trocken".

in an unmistakable airline syllogism, because i was suspected of being not alive, me and co-travelling colleague xavier were bumped up to business class. of which he thanked me by asking me to faint before lunch on the next flight.