Thursday, August 9, 2012

I'm a fighter not a chicken and that's no bull


I once choked on a cheeseburger while out with a group of friends and no one noticed.. Normally one might expect to be upset in an instance such a this. Frantic hand waving and gesturing, maybe two hands grasping at the throat in the universal sign of "hey assholes I'm choking here!" but in instances of me, rarely are we talking "normal". 
I was in my mid teens and out with my older sister and her friends and I was trying to show how cool I was and that little sis could run with the older crowd. I sat at the table, greasy chuck firmly lodged in my esophagus. My eyes were watering. My face changed myriad shades of blue and purple. I was a technicolor dreamface!! I tried to cough firmly yet daintily and discreetly to try to dislodge ol Bessy from the confines of my blow hole. My hands fumbled for my glass of ice water as I tried to wash her down. The table of half a dozen people, oblivious to me and my imminent peril noticing neither that I was choking nor how non challantly I was covering my choking, continued their cacophony of noise around me.   Eventually I got up and, tears streaming from my face due to the jabbing of what certainly had to have been the shrapnel of Blue Bells' bones, I stumbled to the bathroom and some how managed to remove the blockage.
Returning to the table, my face slowly returning color (if "oh darling don't you ever get outside" white is considered a real color) a member of the group looked up and noticed my disheveled looks and asked if I was alright. I waved him off dismissively and hoarsely croaked I was fine. To prove my point, I took another bite of that burger. I'm a fighter! I would not be taken down by the former occupant of my mighty fine leather shoes!


Til next time!
x's and o's

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