Curled up in a ball in the back of my Wrangler.
After working a 20hr shift, I got home reached in the back to get my backpack and couldn't quite reach. Crawled out of the seat to grab it and woke up 6 hours later disoriented af.
In the women's locker room at the shipyard. Nobody ever goes in there, it's clean, it's never used, and I just got off a sixteen hour shift of welding. I was damn tired and couldn't muster the strength to drive myself home.
I got about five hours of sleep which was enough rest to drive myself home and call out "sick" the next day.
In the classroom, on the floor, before class started, and was woken up when class was over.
I've slept on airplanes, which tend to fly over just about anywhere along their path, so technically over the top of lots of places, and if at least one of them wasn't weird I'd be surprised
I was homeless in Brussels once. Someone stole my backpack with my passport in it, and just like that I was stateless. It was over a weekend, and the embassy to my home country was closed and wouldn't open until Monday.
No food, no money, no water, I had nothing to do. I walked all over that city, really got to see every interesting corner of it. It's like 5 different countries smushed into one, and you can see french/german/british influence almost everywhere. There's an overpass that cuts right through it at one point, occupying nothing underneath and that's where the migrants gather on Saturday mornings to host their wares in this long unyielding impromptu market.
I slept in their parks, talked with their police (who didn't believe my story), and even struck up a conversation with a random Canadian I met at the train station, who fitted the stereotype to a T, and gave me money so I could get by another day, asking for nothing in return.
When Monday rolled around, I took a nice leisurely stroll to the embassy and got an emergency visa, ready for the long bus trip home, and genuinely sadly bid farewell to that beautiful crazy mess of a city. It shares a special place in my heart, bureaucracy be damned.
Probably the floor of an airport. Everything was closed and the chairs weren't an option, so I just picked a spot on the floor and used my bag as a pillow for about six hours before I got woken up by the morning cleaning people.
In a Walmart parking lot. in a van, with three homies... in a random state. Was it Georgia?
The cold tile floor of the marching band's laundry room for about two hours. I had a severe migraine, and for me, that means I'm going to take a nap no matter where I am. It was about as comfortable as you can imagine.
Sleep is one of the few things that put a dent in mine. When I started seeing Auras on people it was a sign to go to sleep in the next hour or so or face the weight of the cosmos right behind my left eye.
Next to the exhaust vent of the local underground commuter rail (is that a metro or subway? It's only for one stop). It got quite cold and vent provided a warm breeze. It was the last spot that night where security didn't push me along from
On a train. It was at night and it was a long train ride, and it's the only occasion where I remember falling asleep while sitting up!
On the floor of a Turkish community center. Alternatively, over the North Pole.
In a little hut that the chair lift operator of the ski area (closed in the summer, when I was there) would use normally.
