Am I Going To Die?

I just bought a coffee and peanut butter cookie from the cafeteria. The cookie was about 4 inches in diameter and had just come out of the oven. It was so hot that the cafeteria lady had to use a spatula and oven mitts to put it on a little paper plate for me, and not having set yet, she had to cut out the wax paper from underneath the cookie so that it wouldn't crumble when lifted. It was like I had walked into an ad for Pillsbury. The cookie smelled so good that I had to fend off legions of swooping coworkers and union employees with one hand while carefully manoeuvring across the hangar floor to the exit (just Like Eddie Murphy in The Golden Child).

I think we all see where this is going.

Having successfully navigated my way from the cafeteria to the commissionaire's desk, I relaxed ever so slightly - and the perfect cookie specimen slid off of the wax paper and landed face down on the tiled floor directly in front of the men's washroom. The commissionaire and I looked at one another, then our eyes drifted to the fallen cookie, now a corpse, and a single tear fell from my cheek in slow motion. Within milliseconds, I had retrieved the cookie from the floor and had pieced it back together on my plate, like a beautiful peanut butter puzzle, as if nothing had happened. The commissionaire and I looked at one another again, and I smiled and muttered something to the effect of "I'll mull this over on the way back to the office", so he wouldn't think that I, you know, actually ate the cookie.

Well, I just finished eating said cookie and it was wonderful. But now I have to ask - am I going to die? Does the five second rule apply to busy hangar breezeways and/or spaces immediately adjacent to washroom entrances? Does my H1N1 shot also protect from food poisoning? At the time, I told myself that the cookie was probably hot enough to incinerate any germs and bacteria that could kill me... we'll see if that's the case. If you never hear from me again, you'll all know what happened.

Also - avenge my death. Blame it on the union.