Tooth

It was early 2020 before the world got bent and the rubber gloves told me that that thing was going to need to come out, another tooth to not weirdly save in a flowery box that Mom has in a closet right next to her fall pajamas. I went with that and ran.

For four years. I know, not good.

But my adult teeth finally caught up with my baby ones, eventually, again, and the rubber gloves had their day.

I knew this was going to come, this pockmarked, cracked, broken molar constant dental floss grab of bits of breakfast, lunch and dinner and snacks moon rock of a tooth was going to have to see the light of day out of my head eventually.

Dramatic re-creation (from only professional actors though, no amateurs need audition).

“MMMTHPTPUTTAARGHH!” drool, spit fly on my own cheek and even in my eye.

“It’s just pressure, no pain” said the rubber gloves with a magnifying lighted eye.

“NOMMMTHPTUTAARGGHH!!”

“Does this hurt?!”

“YESNOMMMTHPTUTAARGGHH!!”

“No, it’s just pressure right, no pain?”

“NOMOMMTHPTUTAARGGHH!! TMUMMBLEMUMBLEDROOLDROOLSPITSCREAM!!!”

“Let’s take a break”

Pulling the rubber teeth stopper thingy from out of my other mouth like the stick you are told to clench down on before having a limb removed in a bloody grassy warring field on the fly and getting a rinse.

“You know Doc, you are the worst first date ever! Nobody does a take your first date to work by the way!! That is NOT a THING!!”

She said with a Marquis de Sade glint “Ok, let’s get back to it”

Son of a bitch. Sigh.

Almost two hours later my head was a little lighter of tooth but at least I have this little moon rock for the diorama I want to fashion in a cardboard box, the one Mom has next to those pajamas, a lunar moonscape I think, maybe even with a tiny cute little Neil Armstrong … “One small tooth …”.

I know they wanted to avert their eyes but were forced, through sheer professionalism, to meet my gaze at the reception desk as I gingerly pulled out my wallet (everything was gingerly right then).

I apologized. They weakly smiled even though they had probably lost whatever business might have come walking through the door during my screaming time.

“That will be 65 dollars … oh, and come back in two weeks. We’ll be wearing full body rubber gloves then, black, and tall spiky boots too and we’ll even slap you around some more if you’d like”

“Noted, thanks.”