My friend Mellie has, through sheer force of will, managed to purchase a home. I have been following the saga of her home buying experience via her occasional vents to me about it. Apparently the whole process was a pain in the ass in the same way that Jupiter is a planet, which is to say, mysterious and many thousands of times larger than necessary.
She’s been moved in for a few weeks now, but I haven’t been able to get over to see the new place yet because its farther away than my bedroom and isn’t a bicycle.
“You could come over like a normal person and see my house,” she scolded “or would that be too non-hermity for you?”
When I am king, I will have the act of pointing out my shortcomings outlawed.
Of course, she had a point, but I couldn’t go empty handed. So, I set about soliciting suggestions of good housewarming gifts from other friends. I was told that a pineapple is the traditional gift. I had never heard of such, but I looked it up on the Interplops and it turned out to be true.
Moments later I was in the grocery store buying a pineapple, some curly ribbon, a thing of half n half (I was out at home), and a Clif bar. I paid for my items and got into my car, sending the Clif bar into action to combat the screeching and burbling noises emanating from my hungry midsection.
I was munching happily on my Clif bar and taking sips from a latte and rather enjoying myself when all of a sudden I bit something really hard. Whatever it was cracked loudly.
I stopped chewing and performed a quick survey of my mouth with my tongue. That’s how I discovered that I was missing a tooth. Missing a goddamned tooth! Sweet hairy Jesus!
Of course, these things seldom happen to me when I’m sitting at home with no pressing engagements at hand, so I was trying to drive my car and spit out a mouthful of Clif bar and tooth at the same time
Now, truth be told, the tooth I bit wasn’t a normal tooth. It was in fact a tooth impersonator installed by my dentist when my actual tooth gave up being a tooth and started hurting like hell all the time. I am still waiting for the professionally crafted false tooth — which is called a “crown” so it seems like something you want to have — to get installed. In the meantime I had a fake false tooth.
Until I bit it and it exploded, that is.
Once home, I went inside and inspected my jaw in the mirror. Sure enough, I was a tooth short. I brushed my teeth and inspected again, and I wasn’t bleeding or anything so I figured I was okay. The tooth is far enough back in my mouth that it’s not immediately apparent that I am a gap-toothed imbecile unless I smile as wide as possible, or bray like a donkey.
So that’s how I found myself on my friend’s new porch holding a pineapple with a bit of curly ribbon on it and licking the place where my fake false tooth used to be.
Guess I’ll be making a dentist’s appointment shortly.
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Dude. I did this once. Only I did it with a PERMANENT crown. That I had just paid good money for like a week earlier. I think you can guess what had to happen over the next couple days. It was not at all pretty.
The good news is that when I finally managed to “retrieve” the crown THREE days later, it was clear it had fallen off due to the dentist’s incompetence, so not only did I get a new one for free but he threw in two free teeth cleaning appontments as well.
Still.