I collect choking posters
Signs of choking can be fun
Don't worry, she didn't die. After nearly suffocating from the rib eye lodged in her throat, she ordered vanilla ice cream. It's much harder to choke on ice cream than steak.
Every year for my fiancé’s birthday we go to Keens Steakhouse. From the moment we leave the restaurant I begin counting down the days till his next one because I love Keen’s him.
Surrounded by paper plane patrons (talking about the cocktail not the A4 configuration), mutton chops that would make a baby instantly grow sideburns, Teddy Roosevelt’s pipe, we sat dignified and ready to dine. The pair seated next to us were not mom and son, they were friends.
I don’t like calling it ‘eavesdropping’ because that implies I’m intentionally listening in on the conversation next to me. Space in NYC is very precious and very limited. What’s in earshot is out of my hands. That’s why we’re loud. And whether the woman liked it or not, I was now captivated and eager to hear how much her friend bid on a piece of art at Sotheby’s when all of the sudden the story stopped.
‘ARE YOU CHOKING?!’
Nothing.
‘DOES ANYONE KNOW CPR?!?’
My fiancé grabbed the table to make way for the 50 men who jumped up and dashed to the woman turning more purple than the meat stuck in her throat.
ONE
TWO
OUT IT GOES
Well done, to the man who saved the woman, not the meat.
But the most shocking moment happened after the near-death incident. The woman continued her conversation with her friend and even put in an order for ice cream. I couldn’t NOT say something.
“I would be crying right now, I can’t believe you’re sticking it out, wow.”
“Oh I just get so excited eating here! This happens all the time.”
Well if that’s not an endorsement for Keen’s (or a sign of mental illness) I don’t know what is.
This reminds me of all the choking posters I collect. Restaurants are required by law to display choking signs with CPR instructions. Some are basic, others have unicorns.
So, if you ever find yourself in the presence of a choking crocodile, flamenco dancer, or serial Keen’s-meat-choker, here’s what to do:
