2006-07-12
Dental Saga
My success in life will be driven by three things: my razor-sharp wits, my winning smile, and my complete and utter lack of morals.
Now, the first and last of those three are easy enough to maintain. But the winning smile takes a little work; namely, semi-regular trips to the dentist.
I gave brief consideration to self-medicating with some Poor Man's Novacaine (vodka) before my visit to dental hell today-- but a quick check of my illegal substance hideaway revealed that I am fresh out, and a quick check of my drivers' license revealed that I am, in fact, still younger than 21.
So, I had to endure the experience while sober as a Mormon on Easter (which is very sober, for those of you who found the Mormon simile unclear)
For the most part all went well. My dental hygenist was an endearingly fobby asian woman who looked like she had just stepped out of an anime film. And I managed to dodge the wisdom-tooth-removal bullet for another year.
All went well, in fact, except for one minor detail -- my dentist, who has the worst breath in the entire Western hemisphere. There is really no excuse for a dentist to have such awful breath. Especially not when I know for a fact --for a fact-- that there is an entire cupboard filled with free toothbrushes and mini tubes of toothpaste no more than thirty feet away from that man at any point during the work day.
zebrasaur at 12:02 a.m.
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