So, I'm sitting in SmartCookie, munching on a day-old, semi-sweet chocolate chip cookie and listening to Roundy sweet-talk Jane, an attractive bowling alley attendant (it turns out that these two things are not mutually exclusive). He drops a particularly clever line on this girl, and I start laughing mid-bite. Consequently, I inhale my late-nite snack and promptly gridlock the oxygen highway from my lungs to my brain. Next thing I know, I wake up in a pool of partially-digested snickerdoodles to the words, "Someone call 9-1-1."
And people say you can't have fun without drinking.
