Last Updated on September 2, 2025 by Michael

Complete Guide to Vaping in Hospital Waiting Rooms: A Masterclass in Making Everyone Hate You

Apparently This Needs to Be Said Out Loud

Someone vaped in the NICU last Thursday.

The NICU.

Where the premature babies live. The ones who weigh less than your vape mod. Someone looked at those tiny humans fighting for their lives and thought “you know what this needs? Mango-flavored fog.”

That person still walks among us. Probably reading this guide and taking notes. Put the pen down, Brandon. This isn’t a tutorial. It’s evidence for your future trial.

Assembling Your Kit of Bad Decisions

Can’t just show up with some gas station disposable and expect to properly ruin everyone’s day. You need equipment that screams “my parents gave up on me in middle school.”

The Shopping List of Shame

Know what else you need? That specific brain chemistry that makes someone see a “No Smoking” sign and think “that apostrophe between the N and O means NO(T) smoking, right?” Wrong. So wrong that philosophers are writing papers about how wrong you are.

Where to Set Up Shop (Don’t)

The gift shop.

Hear me out—no wait, don’t hear me out. This is terrible. But think about it: Grandma’s buying a teddy bear for little Timmy’s surgery, and suddenly she’s navigating through your “Tropical Dick Punch” flavored fog bank. She’s 87. She survived the Depression. Your nonsense might be what finally takes her out.

Actually, you know what? Let’s talk about the blood lab. Yeah, the place where people are already lightheaded from fasting and blood loss. Add some “Cotton Candy Catastrophe” to the mix. Watch them drop like dominoes. The phlebotomist will remember you. Not your name. Just your crimes. She’ll tell this story at every medical conference for the next forty years. You’ll become a cautionary tale. A whole PowerPoint slide. Comic Sans font.

The Nuclear Option: The helicopter pad. MedEvac pilots already have enough problems without flying through your personal cumulonimbus of poor choices.

Your Defense Strategy Is Bad and You Should Feel Bad

Here’s every conversation you’re about to have:

You: “It’s just water vapor” Them: “So is tear gas” You: “That’s not—” Security: “Time to go”

Or maybe you’ll try the sovereign citizen approach:

You: “I do not consent to your rules” Nurse: “Cool, I do not consent to your presence” You: “That’s not how—” Big Mike: cracks knuckles in security guard

Big Mike doesn’t even work here. He just shows up when someone’s being this specific type of stupid. It’s like a bat signal but for disappointment.

The Escalation Protocol Nobody Wanted

Picture this: You’ve just ripped the fattest cloud. Somewhere, an angel loses its wings. Here’s what happens next:

That kid in the corner? The one with the iPad? He’s livestreaming you. You’re already on TikTok. The caption says “Tell me you peaked in high school without telling me you peaked in high school.” 47,000 views in the first minute.

The sweet old volunteer lady stops mid-cookie delivery. She’s had that job for 23 years. She’s seen everything. Wars. Famines. The series finale of Lost. But you? You broke her. She’s hanging up her volunteer vest. Tonight she’ll tell her husband Harold that she “just can’t anymore.” Harold will know exactly what she means.

Meanwhile, three nurses are playing rock-paper-scissors to decide who has to deal with you. Nobody wants to win. The charge nurse doesn’t even play—she’s already on the phone with security, legal, and possibly an exorcist.

Still Reading? Let’s Get Weirder

You want advanced techniques? Your parents didn’t hug you enough, did they?

The Colonoscopy Prep Catastrophe: Find the GI clinic. Wait for someone to emerge from their procedure, still high on propofol, already confused about reality. Hit them with the “Bubblegum Nightmare Express.” They’ll think they died and went to candy hell. Their therapist will hear about this for years. You’ve created generational trauma. Happy now?

The Ambulance Bay Ambush: This is it. Rock bottom. But you brought a shovel. Stand where they bring in the actual emergencies and create your own weather system. The paramedics are trying to save lives while navigating through your “Strawberry Shortcake War Crime” cloud. One of them is named Steve. Steve just wanted to help people. Steve is reconsidering his choices. Steve’s wife will hear about you tonight. Steve’s wife is a lawyer.

Wait. Stop.

Are you actually taking notes?

Reality Check From the Universe

You realize nurses talk, right? There’s a group chat. Your photo is in it. Not a good photo either—the one from security footage where you’re mid-vape and your face looks like you’re trying to suck a golf ball through a garden hose. The chat is called “Do Not Resuscitate (This Guy).”

Every hospital in a 500-mile radius knows about you. They’ve got a special code for when you show up. Code Gray? That’s for combative persons. Code Vape? That’s just you. Specifically you. They made a whole new code. That’s your legacy.

People You’re Actively Traumatizing: The Documentary

Janet, 52, Teacher, Kidney Stones Already in agony. Your “Watermelon Sugar High Explosive” just triggered her first migraine in ten years. She teaches your kids. Well, taught. She’s changing careers now. Congratulations, you’ve contributed to the teacher shortage.

DeShawn, 28, Contractor, Definitely Broke Something Falling Off a Roof Can’t breathe through his nose because it’s probably broken. Now he can’t breathe through his mouth either thanks to your “Blue Raspberry Disappointment” cloud. He’s memorizing your face. He builds houses. He knows where you live. Not a threat, just an observation.

Ethel, 94, Someone’s Great-Grandma, Hip Replacement She was at Woodstock. The real one. She’s done every drug you can imagine and several you can’t. Your vape cloud just made her realize humanity peaked in 1969 and it’s been downhill since. She’s revising her will. You’re somehow in it. Not in a good way.

Alternatives to Being The Worst

Radical idea: don’t.

Just sit there. Play Candy Crush like a normal person having an existential crisis. The waiting room has wifi now. It’s terrible wifi, but it exists. Watch YouTube videos of people doing what you’re thinking about doing and getting thrown out. Learn from their mistakes. Don’t become the mistake.

Read that pamphlet about diabetes. You probably have it. Or will, considering your flavor choices.

Count how many people are secretly crying. It’s always at least three. Don’t add to that number.

Have a staring contest with that weird stain on the ceiling. It looks like Elvis if you squint. Or Jesus. Or Kevin Hart. Depends on the angle and how long you’ve been waiting.

The Hall of Legends (Derogatory)

Remember Kyle from Denver? Vaped during an MRI. Turns out his vape had metal components. You can figure out the rest. The machine cost 3 million dollars. Kyle’s insurance didn’t cover “being a dumbass.” Kyle works three jobs now. Kyle’s grandchildren will still be paying that off.

What about Madison from Portland? Tried to ghost-vape during her own surgery consultation. While the surgeon was explaining the procedure. The surgeon just stopped mid-sentence, put down his pen, and walked out. Never came back. Madison’s still waiting. It’s been three years.

Then there’s Chad. Fucking Chad from Florida (because of course Florida). Vaped during a code blue. Someone was literally dying and Chad thought it was the perfect time to blow clouds. The crash team had to work around him. The patient survived. Chad’s reputation didn’t. Chad can’t even get seen at a veterinary clinic now. His dog has to go to the next county.

Your Future: A Three-Part Tragedy

Part One: The Immediate Tomorrow you wake up famous. Bad famous. The kind where your mom calls crying because her book club saw you on the news. Local news. The segment right after the water-skiing squirrel but before the weather. They blur your face but everyone knows it’s you. The vape gives it away.

Part Two: The Consequences Your Tinder profile says “banned from all area hospitals” like it’s quirky. It’s not quirky. Ashley unmatches. So does Brittany. And Jennifer. And that bot you were pretty sure was real. Even the bot has standards.

You need surgery eventually. Everyone does. The closest hospital that will take you is in Canada. You don’t live near Canada. The Uber costs more than the surgery. The driver one-stars you. He doesn’t even know about the vaping thing; you’re just generally disappointing.

Part Three: The Legend Decades pass. You’re in nursing homes now. The staff there? They know. How? Because Nurse Patricia from the hospital you got banned from in 2024? That’s her daughter. And her niece. And her nephew. The whole family went into healthcare. They all know. There’s a photo of you in the break room. Not a banned photo. Just a photo. For motivation. “Don’t let them win” it says at the bottom.

The Bottom Line, Since You Skipped to Here

Hospitals are where people go to stop being dead. Sometimes it doesn’t work. It’s very sad. You know what makes it sadder? Your “Fruity Pebbles Massacre” flavored cloud making their last moments smell like a candy store having a nervous breakdown.

You want to know who vapes in hospitals? People who return shopping carts to the wrong store. People who talk on speakerphone in public bathrooms. People who say “it’s just a prank, bro” after committing actual crimes. People who think Die Hard isn’t a Christmas movie.

Don’t be those people.

Put the vape down. Delete this article from your browser history. Pretend you never had this thought. Go volunteer somewhere. Plant a tree. Adopt a highway. Do literally anything that contributes positively to society instead of whatever this is.

Because somewhere, right now, Big Mike is waiting. Big Mike doesn’t sleep. Big Mike doesn’t eat. Big Mike exists solely to deal with people like you.

And Big Mike?

Big Mike is tired of your shit.