Dentists are extortionists, so even if I did have insurance and even if I wasn’t a failure, I wouldn’t be able to pay for the royalty sounding treatments they give dental work. Think about it: crown, bridge, root canals, all that sedation; you’re paying to be a character in a whimsical fairy tale involving your teeth and their torture. I am of the peasant caste, I know my place.
But last week, half my tooth slipped away like Snow White drops her apple — it plain fell the fuck out of my mouth. And then the fear kicked in along with my unwavering commitment to being right; and I became certain I was mixing the foundation to the yellow brick road of gummy blowjobs for life.
The pain started a week later and it was unbearable–I’d rather twirl the weight of my body from a pencil in my eye than deal with tooth pain ever again. My two greatest joys–eating and sleeping–became impossible, so I wound up spending all of my time gulping handfuls of Advil and Tylenol, pacing like an autistic and not fearing death, whatsoever. I dialed the county dental clinic and my appointment was set for two days later.