red time stories
- By Andrew Boag
- Sep. 20 2001 00:00
Red knows when his body is housing some evolutionary throwbacks. In the end those teeth are on borrowed time.
Surprisingly enough there was one nasty little tooth whose cunning caught me out recently. The tried and tested means of old failed me. This internal ivory enemy wanted to play rough. It's all a simple question of biological property rights and every landlord knows that you can only get so many complaints from the neighbors before it's time for an eviction notice -- and the tenants don't always go quietly.
Landlords use police. Dentists use pliers. Off to the dentist I went.
I have been fortunate enough never to contract a paralyzing fear of dentists. What's my secret? Simple, don't go to them. As far as I can remember, I had only set foot in a dentist's office once in the last 10 years. Although "An apple a day keeps the doctor away" has ruled supreme in the world of medical maxims, I found a more suitable dental doctrine in "If it ain't broke, don't fix it."
I never thought I would feel euphoria at the sight of a woman standing in front of me with a scalpel in her hand, but I wanted this tooth out and Doctor Irina had the tools to do it. This tooth was now an alien body -- not welcome. Life support had been shut off. Its days of blissful slumber in the moist nether regions of my mouth were over.
Back home, dentists didn't laugh when their patients opened their mouths. Apparently, the grape-sized bulge that obscured the clear exit route for my tooth meant that an extraction was out of the question.
In order to remove my tooth, some of the eclipsing tissue would have to be removed. The consoling part is that I was administered massive doses of injections before I sat back to the soothing scratches of scalpel on teeth.
Although fully conscious, I was so preoccupied with soaking up my present pain-free sensual situation that I thought little of the cavity being carved out for my feral fang to fill.
If a tree falls in the woods and no one hears it, does it make any noise? Although I cannot offer any insight into this age-old question I can assertively reassure you that a half-kilogram chunk of quivering gum does make a sound when it is wrestled from the mouth of a doped-up foreigner.