Warning Labels for Food

Wouldn't it be something if all food came with a warning label. Specifically the ones they put on toys not all that safe for children 3 and under. Ya know, the simple "Choking Hazard" label. All food. Everywhere. "Choking Hazard" right on the box. I didn't come to this conclusion until dinner-time last night.

Matt and I were enjoying a Tombstone Supreme Pizza fresh out of the oven, with some Sparkling Cider. We sat on the couch in wait, for the food to cool, and "Scrubs" to come on. "The Biggest Loser" was on at the time, and I made a command decision to find something else to watch for the ten minutes we had to kill.

We checked Spike, Sci-Fi, TBS, USA, TNT, and stopped. The women of Blue Crush would be suitable eye-candy until Scrubs was on. The pizza had cooled, and was beckoning to be eaten. Naturally, we indulged. I started from the back, eating the crust while it was fresh, and working my way around. After a few bites, something odd happened.

I took on a little more than I could chew, and a portion of the pizza got knocked back into the back of my throat, basically constricting my airway. I was wheezing, taking what would be seen as overly exaggerated breaths to squeeze air past the pizza. It was maybe two seconds in, when I thought to myself: "Not like this. I am not going to die on a Tombstone pizza, while watching Blue Crush. This is not the way I am going down." A few more breaths came and went. Matt had his pizza on his plate, ready to jump into action. A bad place for the heimlich, but it was far preferable than the alternative.

There we sat, the way we normally do during dinner. The seconds ticking past immeasurably slow, and the TV suddenly irrelevant. My breathing was the focus of our apartment, Matt's may very well have stopped. And then, just as it had happened, the pizza dislodged. I coughed, a hacking cough, on and on. But my breathing and time's passing returned to normal speeds.

I immediately shared my thoughts on the experience with Matt. "No way was I going to die like that" I said. And Matt, laughing it off with me, put himself at the funeral, answering questions to friends and family as to how it happened. Choking back laughter. Probably one of the closer calls I've had, but like everything else, I'm taking it in stride. (Although you have to appreciate the irony of a Tombstone pizza actually making someone need the other kind of tombstone.)

And recounting it today, I think of the what ifs. Can't you see it happening to someone who you've never heard of, from a small town you don't know, in a state you've never been to. And the person went down, no one was there, and they panicked, or the pizza dislodged too late and the person stopped breathing. Can't you see a lawsuit being wrought by the family? And a massive settlement. Can't you just see the resulting fear suffered by all food producers, the need to reduce liability, by perhaps putting a warning label on all their products? Can't you just see it, a hot pink stick with letters in big black typeface that say, "Choking Hazard."

I'll tell you what, I can. And it's both funny and sad. Just like that woman who put the coffee in her lap, had it spill, burned her crotch and subsequently sued McDonalds and received a million dollars as a result. Only worse. I can see the little sticker having to be put on every hamburger wrapper, every box of fries, every package of ground meat, boxes of Wheat Thins and Goldfish, and of course, the Tombstone pizza that I choked on last night.

Ahhh, this crazy world in which we live.