Jawbreaker

A conduit of near-death


Did your parents ever tell you that you're not supposed to eat things off of the floor? Mine never did. I guess you could say they shouldn't have had to- but I was the kind of kid that needed serious direction. Plus, recall how all I had to eat in my childhood were bell peppers.

My brother and I were bullshitting around the town pool. My parents signaled to us that it was time to go. We picked up our towels, our cooler filled with stale cream cheese sandwiches, and our thermoses of tap water and started moving. We slowed down after taking note of some abandoned jawbreakers on the floor of the pool cafeteria. I bent down and picked up a big one- it didn't look too slimy so I figured it fell out of someone's pocket before they got to eat it. I know, I'm so discerning. It's what you'd expect from an 18 year old. Just kidding- I was 6. Or 8.

I popped the jawbreaker into my mouth. Mom turned around. I tried to conceal it by tucking it up to the roof of my mouth so that she couldn't see it protruding through my cheek- a task that is impossible because large jawbreakers are like 3 inches in diameter. Of course the thing slid all the way back into my throat. I gasped for air, and- nothing. I stopped breathing. I remember thinking to myself: "Is this the end? Am I going to die?" And also, "I'm a fucking idiot." 

I ran toward my dad and gave him the good ol' international choking sign. He clearly never took CPR, but he had good instincts. He flipped me upside down and punched me in the back. My would-be killer plopped onto the pavement. This time it was slimy. Dad turned me right side up again and straight up backhand bitch slapped me. Then he gave me a hug. Some lifeguards were standing by, just looking on and scratching their nuts and twirling their whistles. This was a debacle of the non-aquatic variety, which meant that it was beyond their scope.

I told this harrowing tale at a job interview. Yes I did. 

It was a post-college, second round job interview at a Wall Street investment firm. My interviewer, a Managing Director, asked me a most irrelevant, off-the-cuff question: "What's the worst thing that's ever happened to you?" So I told him about how I was almost killed by a jawbreaker. I think the answer he was looking for was something along the lines of, "One time I created a pivot table and the data wasn't updating or sorting correctly it was HORRIBLE but don't worry because in the end I used my intellectual horsepower and sat in front of the screen for 12 hours because I'm such a diligent worker and I'm so great so I fixed it and everything was fine!" 

When I finished answering, he pursed his lips and said, "OK. Look, I wasn't expecting that. What you just told me is awful, just awful. I'm a parent, I have young children. Twins, in fact. I'm going to go home tonight and hit the sack and have terrible nightmares."

So I got up and he said he'd be in touch and I headed down the elevator into the lobby. Then when I got down to the street I realized that I left my folio in his office, so I had to go back upstairs and ask him for it. Talk about awkward.

I did not get the job.