Coffee, a Joint, and the Heimlich Maneuver Back in 2015, my boy Jesse and I had a ritual—coffee and a joint to start the day, then a bagel run on Metropolitan Ave. Pure vibes. So we roll one, burn it down, and cruise over to our usual spot. We’re mid-bagel when I catch a guy across the room turning red, full-on choking, grabbing at his throat. I turn to Jesse, calm as ever, and say, “Mind if I step away real quick?” Then I walk over and ask the guy, “You need the Heimlich?” He nods. Without missing a beat, I get behind him, hit him with a textbook Heimlich—pop, bagel chunk flies out. He catches his breath, life back in his eyes. I give him a nod, turn around, and sit right back down like nothing happened. Jesse just looks at me, stunned. I take another bite. Moral? Just because you’re stoned doesn’t mean you’re not locked in. Stay cool, stay present—because you never know when it’s your turn to be the hero… even if you smell like OG Kush.
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