I went to the dentist today. I’m not the kind of person who freaks out about the dentist (which is convenient, really, because I am also the kind of person who regularly eats things off the floor and loses fillings courtesy of two year-old caramels found in the further reaches of the pantry, thereby ensuring abundant dentist visits). I think the reason I like my dentist so much is the hygienist, Thelma. Sure, she scrapes the shit out of my teeth, but she’s funny while she does it. “That poor Alexa Joel,” she’ll mutter. I think she’s talking about the suicide attempt, until she continues: “To have Christie Brinkley as a mother but the face of Billy Joel.”
Anyway, today I found out I have cavities for the first time since I was a preteen (well, excepting an incident in college when I broke a tooth eating God knows what and decided to just let it be like The Beatles told me to in times of trouble because I was young and stupid and wanted to spend all of my money on cigarettes, and then seven or eight months later I had to have a root canal because my tooth was essentially a well big enough to fit Baby Jessica or that girl from The Ring... but that wasn’t really a cavity so much as a giant gaping fucking hole). Anyway, I am distressed. While I admittedly guzzle wine and coffee to the point where my pearly whites are more like canary diamond yellows, oral hygiene is important to me. And I had kind of a record going with the no cavities thing.
(Hence the title, “Dental Damn,” which I very much wanted to use for this post, because in addition to reading about my sad oral history, I know you all were jonesing for a thinly-veiled reference to cunnilingus. Speaking of which, Happy Hump Day. We’ve come full circle, y’all. I feel good about this.)