After much hue and cry, I finally decided to give the dentist a visit. Not that I was in pain or anything, but I knew I had broken part of a tooth, the right molar, I guess it is called. The resulting cavity was as deep as a mine, and whatever food I ate started having an annoying habit of finding it's way into that hell-hole.
You know how they say that people who have long tongues have great voices? Well, my tongue can even touch the tip of my nose, but STILL couldn't get to that blasted spot. After hours and hours of rummaging, I would finally get through to that dumb piece of waddeva it had been, that I had gorged upon a few hours earlier. (yuck! :X)
So anyhoo, I sped off towards the nearest decent l'hopital, the SMRC in Chicalim. (Wondering where it is? Google Maps, you numbskulls!) Since our esteemed college does not have a dentist, ( or a decent doc, for that matter - our doc was in the papers a while ago for assaulting a nurse or something pathetic/hilarious), I decided to check into the Salgaocar Medical Research Center.
After burning holes in my pockets for the required 200+50 bucks, I made my way into the dental department...only to be pleasantly surprised by a cute doctor. ;P The dream had come true!! :P
Wellllllllll, maybe she wasn't exactly mirror-cracking material... but 2 weeks spent in isolation in a jaundice-infested campus which had decided to send back already depleted stock of chicks, I could have found the local fishmonger to look like Alessandra Ambrosio. Hey! Just like Rathabole's dog did. He certainly thought the fishmonger looked liked a lamppost. The fishmonger, I assure you, did not.
But let me not digress.
After readying the 'dreaded' dentist's chair, she knocked me out of my reverie of fishmongers and BITS dudettes, and beckoned me to the chair. Now I am a guy, a little well-built, and a footballer to boot. You can stuff dry salmon down our parched throats and we wouldn't blink an eyelid. But there is something about a cute dentist peering into your open mouth that makes even the most hardened criminals shiver. Put yourself in my position. Tilted at 145 degrees, in a Chelsea jersey and denim. You get my drift?
Anyways, she peered down my gaping mouth, tch-tching all the while. I suddenly cringed. Damn, I should have brushed my teeth before I came. Damn! I should have sprayed on the ADIDAS deo. Damn! I should have poured on the infamous Fair and Handsome.... and similar thoughts to that effect flooded my brain. The last Damn! didn't really bother me much, because I had recently read a dood's post regarding such potions.
Then she was eroding my tooth and cleansing it with a jet of water at the same time. I had to spit out the water (containing fragments of my dents) so many times, that she got the nurse to use a suction pump to get rid of the water. Picture this, gentlemen... Three, I repeat not one, but three metal rods poking down my mouth, and the vile concoction that I figured later was water, being jetted and sucked out simultaneously. If any one of you fine gents didn't find a chill down your spine, then, I laud you.
To top it all, the thing stank big time! At first I thought it was last week's gobi manchurian, being dislodged from the endless pit. But it turned out, that it was the composite they were using to replace the real me! They were taking away a piece of the Varuminator! (Sad... I know) And the not-so-cute-now artiste, engrossed in her art, had a mask covering her cute nose and mouth! Where the hell is my mask? I wanted to scream. Then I realized I couldn't scream because my mouth was already wide open and the composite wouldn't settle in for some time... so I wouldn't be able to exercise my vocal chords yet. Plus...a mask covering my mouth and nose would rather make the whole trip rather ironic.
Finally, at long last, she was done - and so was my fake tooth. She stepped back, admiring her handiwork, having twice reshaped my molar... once oversizing it, and once undersizing. Finally, happy with the scenery, the artist flashed a wide smile, and said, something like "That's all, folks!", or words to that effect, and I was left wondering why the hell I am not able to clamp my mouth shut. Turned out I had been keeping it open for the past half an hour, a feat which my Discovery Channel sense suggested had something to do with alligators.
Well, i am NOT an Alligator! :P
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