Spit Take

One of the nicest things about our trip to Niagara Falls was the long leisurely meals we shared at the elegant hotel restaurant. Our table overlooked the falls. It was very romantic.

Until.

Our last breakfast. The buffet was to die for! Fresh fruit, cheese, pastry, eggs, bacon, omelets, you name it they had it, and it was delicious.

We sat at our table, enjoying ourselves, having a grand old time.

And then.

I took a sip of coffee. Okay, maybe a gulp. The coffee was good. Not too hot, not too cold. Everything was perfect, and then, for some strange reason I can't quite say, it caught in my throat, and came projectile spewing out of my mouth, spraying all over Todd's breakfast and the wall behind him.

Yes folks, I choked on coffee.

A man from the startled couple at the next table, hesitated. He wasn't sure if I needed to be Heimliched. Note HT never came close to Heimliching me. He said because I was laughing, he knew I wasn't dying.

And I was laughing. As the coffee dripped down the wall behind HT, I laugh/coughed so hard tears streamed from my eyes, making me glad I'd forgotten to put on mascara.

Todd suddenly lost his appetite and set his breakfast aside. He doesn't like coffee and won't even tolerate a little of it in his eggs. He's such a baby.

In my forty years on this earth, nothing quite like this has ever happened to me. Projectiling in a fancy restaurant was not on my to do list.

Who chokes on coffee?

Apparently, I do.