This is pretty hilarious and embarrassing, but I’ll share it anyway because I have no filter to stop me from divulging every thought I have. I almost choked to death yesterday. Don’t be alarmed, don’t be frightened; it wasn’t like I was eating something savory like a sandwich or a hunk of meat. I was eating fucking popcorn at the movie theater and I almost died. A tiny kernel of popcorn nearly took down the world’s preeminent self-absorbed blogger. I’m pretty sure if I had not regained the ability to breathe, and I had actually died, my friends and family would have known better than to publicize the fact that a fucking kernel of popcorn defeated me. I would have had them say I was stabbed to death defending some damsel in distress’s honor. Jesus Christ, just remembering the series of events is making me feel like a retard.

It wasn’t the first time I’ve almost choked to death. Four or five years ago I went to spend a summer weekend in the Poconos at a friend’s house. I think there were four or five of us there, and we bought an ounce of weed to last us 48 hours. On our first morning in the woods, we took a few bong hits and set out on a walk to a nearby gas station for breakfast. They made me a mean ham, egg and cheese sandwich on a bagel. We walked back to the house, smoked a bit more and then ate breakfast like a little stoned family. I remember laughing like an asshole almost the entire meal, as the combination of cannabis and comedy turned the entire weekend one extended guffaw. I started chuckling with a mouthful of bagel and egg, and then started choking. I remember grabbing a bottle of Coke to flush out the food from my throat, and kind of spitting/heaving the food particle and liquids out as I raced to the sink for…some reason. I was probably only without breath for a couple seconds, but it was a frightening few seconds. I realized later that everyone would have been way too stoned to save me had the food gotten lodged any further down my throat.

So what happened yesterday, you ask? Well, I definitely was not stoned. Nicci and I went to see The Men Who Stare At Goats at the movie theater in The Grove. It was pretty good. Nicci wanted to get a snack before the film, and since she likes sweet candies I figured I’d get a small popcorn. We finished off almost the entire thing by the time the previews had ended. As the film was beginning, I decided to scoop the contents of the bottom of the bag and funnel them into my mouth like a fat oaf. I realized quickly that it was a dumb idea. You know that feeling you get in the back of your throat when you swallow a shard of food that inadvertently triggers your cough reflex? Then you spend the next five minuets coughing uncontrollably while everyone around you asks, “Are you alright?” It’s super embarrassing. I felt like I was about to have that happen to me, so my decision to hold my breath seemed like a logical way not to disrupt the movie with a coughing fit. When the feeling of needing to cough subsided a couple seconds later, I told myself, “Okay, you can probably breathe now without coughing.” So I tried to breathe. Only I couldn’t. I kind of gasped awkwardly. It sounded kind of like a reverse pig squeal. Suddenly shocked not to have air getting to my brain, I tried again to breathe in hard. Nothing. Just another pig squeal. I knew something was wrong, and I needed to excuse myself from the theater before I fucking dropped dead in front of everyone. I don’t want to guess how long I went without oxygen, but it was definitely long enough to start me panicking. I took a huge swig of Nicci’s Diet Coke, pointed frantically at the theater’s exit, and raced down the aisle to the exit.

Standing just inside the theater door, I snapped my neck back as hard as I could and swallowed the drink. It dislodged the popcorn kernel, but I still felt like I wasn’t getting enough air. I punched myself in the chest a half-dozen times or so, and then let out a magnificent burp. It sounded like one of those fucked up guttural emissions that occur when you’re projectile vomiting, only it was dry. After that, I felt a little better. My heart was racing, of course, so I took a few big breaths before returning to my seat. I didn’t bother telling Nicci I almost choked to death until after the movie ended. I was way too embarrassed. Though I was a little concerned that she didn’t chase after me when she saw me frantically pointing towards the exit and racing down the aisle to leave the theater.

Just to challenge myself, I ate a lot of things over the course of the next several hours. I had a slice of pizza from Deano’s (it sucked!), I had a half-sandwich and some soup from Vons, and then I had tortilla chips and salsa at Barragans followed by the free tacos at Gold Room. I didn’t choke once! I think I’m back at full strength now.

Edda Dell ‘Orso (Ennio Morricone) – Gott Mit Uns (Lontano)
Edda Dell ‘Orso (Berto Pisano/Jacques Chaumont) – Kill! (To Jean)
Edda Dell ‘Orso (Armando Trovaioli) – Vedu Nudo (Ornella)

4 Comments »

| del.icio.us | Digg it! | reddit | StumbleUpon