Fainted.

(Figure A: Susan fainted in the office. Chance of likelihood: 0%)

J and I consider a woman fainting to be a sign of the highest top-ranking super-special level of femininity, a level only the most feminine of femininity-exuding-feminine-females can attain and usually assigned only to skinny people and Disney princesses. It is a most coveted feature, as we are both quite sturdy females and have never come even close to fainting in our lives, even after giving blood for the first time in high school (the mission: faint and get rescued by hot doctor), or even after treacherous tenth grade PE weekly mile-runs (the mission: faint and get rescued by current crush and also be excused from PE forever). Instead, while girls were fainting after giving blood we were raiding the snack table (forgot about mission in face of free food), and while girls were fainting during runs and throwing up blood I was the one nastily wheezing and heaving dry coughs like a pervert. I’m pretty sure those fainted and blood coughing girls were in pain (also there must have been some serious physical ailments involved), but in my jealousy-spiked view they looked like the most helpless, dainty, feminine, story-book damsels-in-distress I ever did see and aspired to be.

(Figure B: Susan rescued from nasty office floor by prince from out of nowhere. Chance of likelihood: 0%)

(Figure C: Susan “rescued” from nasty office floor by the boys. If ever fainted, then chance of likelihood: 100%)