I bopped my way to the dentist yesterday, looking happily forward to having a tongue that wasn’t shredded to ribbons every time I moved, spoke, drank or breathed. Sure, I didn’t like the idea of a needle the size of a McDonald’s straw being unceremoniously shoved into my delicate gumline, but shit, my tongue!
WON’T SOMEBODY THINK OF MY TONGUE?
I waited and waited until 2PM, my appointment time, which seemed inexhaustibly far from whatever moment I was currently in.
Finally, the moment came when it was time to leave. I nearly lept into the the dentist’s chair, barely pausing to give my very talkative dentist a cursory “Yo, Dawg.” First thing he said, after we got through our discussion about how delicious almonds were and how they are, “Of The Devil,” was this, as he gazed upon the damage to my tooth: “Oh.”
Normally, I’d be okay with this level of noise, but for someone who spent ten minutes describing almonds and how GOOD they are for you, this was a downright frightening sound.
“Well,” he said, “let’s take some pictures of this tooth and I’ll optimistically get a filling kit ready.”
Not the most encouraging sounds one can hear. OH WELL, I thought as I bounded off to be gagged by one of those X-Ray things I’m halfway convinced is a torture device to teach kids to floss, I bet I’ll be LUCKY.
Famous. Last. Fucking. Words.
No sooner had my ass grazed the dental chair, did the hygienist hand my dentist the pictures of mah tooth. He sighed. Deeply.
Maybe, I thought, he’s sighing at the BEAUTY of my tooth. I bet it has a really awesome nerve or something. He’s geeky like that. I bet that’s it!
When he finally grabbed a piece of paper to draw a picture for me, I saw his face. It had fallen. He had a case of The Sads. He drew a picture kind of like this:
After he showed me that, he’s like, “Are you SURE you’re not in any pain?” That’s how you know shit is FUCKED the fuck UP.
Sadly, he wrote me a referral to someone who treats these things. I’m getting a “root canal,” on Thursday which, as far as I can ascertain, is sorta like a rotorooter for your tooth. Or something. I’m sorta “la-la-la” *covers ears* about the whole thing.
I’m hoping that, at the very least, I can get a new tooth that’s made of gold and covered in diamonds.
Then, I’m on my way to starting my grill.