I am the cockiest chewer. I will take down anything in two bites. I’ve choked alone in my apartment dozens of times now. One time I was gagging for my life.
Etiquette wise, these circumstances have led me to actually have to consider at what point do you pound on your neighbor’s door if your life is on the line? I mean, I don’t want to interrupt someone’s afternoon soaps for a choking false alarm. I am a captive lion not a boy who cries wolf. So far I’ve managed to get myself out of all my predicaments so I’m building up this confidence that is really probably all wrong. Why am I developing a tolerance to near-death experiences out of courtesy for Days of Our Lives’ Nielson ratings? So I’ve come up with a solution.
I can either go on living in this constant state of danger or I can start dating. I can either accept the fact that I will succumb to a large bite of toast, or put myself out there a bit more. Don’t consider it an indecent proposal, it’s more of a can-you-recognize-the-international-sign-of-choking proposal.
This is where you come into the picture. Of course we would date (hang out, whatev), fall in love, and work together to find that deep, enriching love that will mutually inspire our passions, creativity, and all that good stuff. It’s a given that I would love you, cherish you, challenge you, comfort you, take care of you when you are sick (or just grumpy), and that we would explore the world and our place in it together, but you must never lose sight that your primary purpose would be to save my life in situations where I am choking.
Bear in mind that you can use whatever method is required. You are not limited to the Heimlich maneuver, despite its almost universal endorsement by the medical establishment.
You and I would definitely have to fall in love because I need close to 24 hour supervision in this area. Without the serious levels of commitment that can only be gained through the trust and complete honesty of a monogamous relationship, we would never be able to stand spending that much time together. And God knows why, but I have actually woken up at three in the morning, stumbled into the kitchen and taken down a Tofutti Cutie in a single gulp.
So what’s up ladies? Have you ever wanted a pet boa constrictor but didn’t want to deal with feeding it rats and baby pigs? Holla back.