Re: OT- Teeth


"DavidL" wrote

What a fucking nightmare.
I wish I hadn't read that.
Good luck.
See if you can't bring us back a humorous story from the dentist's
office.

I live to serve, David, my friend.
I'm not sure how amusing *this* visit will be, but I managed to wring a
chuckle or two out of a previous visit.
This is from the Summer of '05, I think....
----------------------------------------------------------

HOW NOT TO SMOKE

I have devised my own simple 11- step program, which sure kept me away from
the Marlboros during a stressful time; it may or may not work for you. 11
steps, and not 12? Yes. If 11 don't do it, then 12 sure as hell won't be any
better. Not in this particular case...

Step 1:
Visit your dentist.
This should involve only getting about 3 hours of sleep the night before,
since dental work is...well, I'm ashamed to admit it, but it's JUST
PATHOLOGICALLY TERRIFYING IN THE EXTREME. Oh, yeah-- and you've ALREADY been
told that "...the reason for that pain when you chew is that you've lost a
piece of a filling in that molar. Now, *maybe* we can save it and not have
to grind the tooth down and put a crown on. That old filling is pretty shot,
though..."


Step 2:
Be absolutely sure that your dentist uses enough Novocain that you cannot
feel your head at all. Have lots of"Whirrrrrr! Bzzzzzzz!
Zeeeee-zeeeee-zeeeeee!" noises going on in your mouth for the better part of
an hour. "This new filling material is light-activated" he says, shining
what looks like a goddam laser beam in there. "Yeah; we put in a layer of
the filling material and then we shine this light on it, and it sets right
up. Then we do another layer, and more light--and the really nice thing is
that you can eat right away!" Uh-huh; just what I want to do-- go and chow
down while my lips and tongue are on vacation somewhere. Plus, that
"light-activated" bull*** just sounds like science fiction to me. I think
he was making shadow puppets in my mouth to amuse his assistant.


Step 3:
Pay handsomely for this abuse and fabrication, and then-- because you're too
rocky for public transportation-- *walk* about 3 miles to the shopping mall
where you vowed you were going to stop and buy some printer ink. The visit
was so traumatic that a 3 mile walk seems for some reason like a GOOD
idea... Arrive there completely sweaty, out of breath, and with lips that
now feel like a catcher's mitt has been sewn to your face-- just so you're
feeling really sharp and handsome.


Step 4:
Decide that not having any feeling in your face should be balanced out by
not having any balance or language skills to speak of, and have a seat at
Chevy's. Order one of their Ultimate Margaritas- with Reposada Tequila,
fresh orange and lime juice and Cointreau. Dribble most of this down your
shirt in an attempt to make your lips form a proper seal with the rim of the
glass. Order 2 more, just so the splotches on your shirt are evenly
distributed enough to compliment the rapidly-drying sweat stains.


Step 5:
Realize that you're so seriously impaired on several levels that you're
either going to have to tell the waiter to stop laughing at you, or prepare
to defend himself. Realize that a couple of busboys are also sniggering.
Decide whether or not it's worth pretending that you've had a stroke.
Get check.
Leave.


Step 6:
Stagger to the multiplex cinema and buy a ticket for...whatever the hell is
showing next.
Forget popcorn, Raisinettes or any of that other crap. You'd probably chew
your own face off and not notice it. Make a beeline for the men's room and
sway back and forth as you belt out a few verses of Leonard Cohen's "Dress
Rehearsal Rag" (for some reason the most appropriate ditty you can think of
at the moment) as you try to simultaneously direct most of your stream into
the proper receptacle and not saturate your shoes. Hope that that object was
the urinal, and it just didn't flush for some reason, and that it really,
truly was not the trash can.


Step 7: Stagger into the theater and take a seat way in back, so you won't
alarm the other 3 people in there for the matinee. Fall asleep as the
trailers start to roll.


Step 8:
Wake up as the usher shakes you and asks you to please stop snoring because
you're annoying the other 3 people in there for the matinee.


Step 9:
Realize you're sitting thru SIN CITY-- containing quite possibly the
weirdest visuals you've seen onscreen in ages. These will cause you to snort
and hoot and laugh uproariously. And possibly inappropriately, further
upsetting the other three CRANKY, HUMORLESS BASTARDS in there for the
matinee.


Step 10:
Tell the usher to piss off (or "PIZH AUVE!" if you can't quite form the
exact words you're trying to mouth) when he comes back to ask you to quiet
down.


Step 11:
Leave; get a cab; go home and crash in the recliner until feeling returns to
your head and some semblance of sense returns to your person and demeanor.


See? You didn't smoke at all! Never even thought about it. Feel happy and
smug and pat yourself on the back. Not too vigorously, because balance is
still elusive...


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