TXTNLY

Weekend schmeekend, I have been whacked out of my gourd on percocet for like 4 days now, so it doesn’t matter what day of the week it is. And no, before all you heads who think I just stumbled into a scrip and am taking a holiday from reality rush to judge me (god damn I hate that – will you guys please stop that), I must state unequivocally that there is medical need. Seems one of my choppers went horribly south last week. Some little infective agent snuck under a crown and started a pain party in my jaw. So I, with great trembling of spirit, dialed my dentist’s digits.

Ah, my dentist. I chose him a while back as he offered this new thing called “sedation dentistry”. Seeing as I am not a huge fan of the whole dentist experience, the word sedation seduced me in ways that I could not resist. I could not really afford it at the time, but my fears played skeeball with my financial reasoning and off I went. Now sedation dentistry involves pills, not anesthesia. I believe the pills are called “halcyon”, but I am not sure. One wakes up, takes a pill every hour until one is blissfully catatonic in the chair of despair. This is why you need a ride to and from, which I had obtained. Of course, owing to my terror, I had also instructed the surgeon to give me nitrous, novacaine… basically everything he had on hand. This was a mistake.

I awoke in my house some six hours later, a bit sore and definitely confused. But I had had the work that needed to be done done, so I figured all is well. Well, all was well until I went in to the dentist’s office a couple of days later to arrange for payment, where I was met with a chorus of barely restrained laughter by the reception staff. Upon inquiring “what the fuck?” in so many words, the truth came out. Apparently somewhere between the third halcyon pill and the nitrous I some how morphed into a fucking rock star who simply could not be kept in his chair. When left alone, my repeated tendency was to wander the halls shouting “You call this a party! For $2500 I could throw a better party than this!” and such things. Sigh.

To make matters worse, my ride decided to stop at Integral Yoga on the way home to fetch me some sort of holistic healing mumbo jumbo that she was always on about. This was a profound error in judgement on her part. I was told to wait in the car, which of course I did not. So, with my rockstar persona still in full effect, but with the added bonus of blood streaming from bits of gauze in my mouth, I entered the ashram-mart and well… lets just say that I tested their mellow. I still feel the urge to be extra polite in that joint. Jesus beezus. But where was I? Ah yes…

So I have a toothache, and I called my dentist and guess what? He is on vacation for a week! So I hunt the intertubes for a dentists, and after this barren board came up with absolutely zero help, I decided to pick the one closest to my house on google maps. This proved to be interesting. I called and they saw me that afternoon! Cool huh? So I scoobied on down to the joint, filled out my paperwork and as I did I started to notice something. The receptionist was a generic receptionist, all office and sticky paddy and whatnot. But behind her I saw one of the hygienists. God damn! She was like a swimsuit model or something, all tall and blond and radiant. And of course, flawless teeth. I took note as my gender demands that I do, and then went back to ticking off boxes of horrid maladies that I do not have. And then I saw her again… but wait, it wasn’t her! It was another totally slamming blonde marching around in a lab coat. By the end of my paperwork and xray, I had counted at least four unbelievably beautiful women manning the joint – all generically so, but en masse, quite the phenomena.

At last it was time to meet my new dentist, who at this point unsurprisingly, was a young man that looked like he walked straight off the set of a soap opera… chiseled jaw, perfectly groomed and of course teeth that looked like they were back lit by halogen lamps. What the hell is this place? Stepford dentistry? I sat there musing the fact that here I was in a brand new office park, the only tenant being the dentist – and perhaps a back room where they were genetically breeding the staff, when Doctor Mandible Von Torso gave me my options. We could save your tooth, but it will run about $3K, and it might not work. Now with a kid in college, and another about to drive up my car insurance tab, $3K, well, it isn’t in the cards – be they visa or master. How much for the straight yank, frank? Bout $150. Done deal. Body parts are cheap, ya know?

So then Dr. Van Torso has to double check his prognosis with “The Main Dentist”, who turns out to be the guy whose name is on the sign. I found this odd, but whatever. Then Von Torso says to me This is gonna be great, did you know you are my second patient. Don’t worry though, I have done plenty of residential work at UVa, and a lot of extractions in prison!” Yeah. Maybe, just maybe you should keep that little tidbit to your self. Lord. I asked about the availability of Nitrous, which I personally love, and was told that they didn’t believe in it? Come again? I assure you its real… you can buy it. No. They don’t use it. What if I bring my own? No dice. So to allay my phobic reaction to all things dental I am, you guessed it, going on the halcyon ride again. God help us all. Especially this time, when I will be in a joint that actually looks look the back stage at a rock concert, what with all the hotties running around and the psychedelic paintings on the wall.

As a footnote, on Saturday, I received a handwritten note from Dr. Von Torso thanking me for, and I quote, “having faith in him”. Really? Really? I don’t even know where to start with that one. I want science and drugs, not faith. But it seems faith is the scrip im getting…

So tomorrow, when you are just waking up, or maybe enjoying your mint-half-cap-skim-venti-mocha-wacko-cino with foam on the side, say a little prayer for yo. He’s gonna need it. And if you want to stop by midday and draw penises on my face, I am pretty sure I will be powerless to stop it. Should be a wild ride, and who knows? I could end up looking like Brad Pitt! Yeah, yeah I know… but as long as I am having faith and all that. Peace.