I’m Choking, But I Have Social Anxiety, So Guess I'll Die

Death is inevitable, but I never thought it would end like this: cut short by a glob of pizza cheese lodged in my windpipe. See, it’s my first day of work at my first job in the “real world”, and I’m choking. Like, really choking. There’s no air coming into my body and no air coming out. I’m weird like this, but I have one of those bodies that just stops working when it doesn’t have air!

I’d alert someone or ask for help, but that would violate the agreement I’ve made with myself to never make human contact unprovoked. Choking to death would seem a good time to break this rule, but I’m a man of principle when it comes to my introversion. Plus, I have this fear someone will hurl mayonnaise at my face and laugh at me if I say the wrong thing. I know it’s irrational to think every stranger keeps mayonnaise on their person, but if it happened once, it can happen again!

Not only must I communicate with my new officemates, but I also have to inconvenience them by asking them to save my life. This whole thing is making me uncomfortable. Maybe I’ll try coughing up the cheese again? Maybe I’ll attempt to subtly give myself the Heimlich. Nope. None of this is working and it’s been two full minutes. It’s time to be a man and get some help! Oh, but everyone looks so busy, I don’t want to bother them.

Suddenly, it hits me. I can’t say anything embarrassing because I can’t talk! I just need to alert someone about the cheese in my lungs and they’ll know what to do. I stand, knocking my chair down in the process. Everyone’s head snaps in my direction. I know I should give the international sign for choking, but I’ve never done it before and I don’t want to look stupid. So, I freeze. This is more embarrassing than I could have ever imagined. Someone asks, “Are you okay?” I’m getting dizzy. Someone shouts, “He’s not breathing, he’s choking!” Overcome with embarrassment, everything goes dark.

I wake to my boss standing over me. I’m alive and breathing! I groggily get to my feet. I’m covered in slimy lung cheese and the entire office is still staring at me. My brain signals I should lighten the mood and tell everyone I’m okay. Instead, I panic and exclaim, “You had me at hello!” Everyone looks confused. That was stupid, I’m so stupid. I wish I were dead.