Tuesday, December 11, 2012


i gaze at the iron chair, the white chair of my death, this is not what i wanted, i thought i was just gonna get some stronger pain pills and be done with it, but before i knew it, i was not saying no to a root canal.
fuck, he actually wanted to do it right away down the hall, but i was too tired, wasn't prepared for major scary surgery, i was blindsided by these turn of events, i knew what it meant to be a lowly worker with a boss who forced you not to join the union, the feeling of not being in control of your life, your next day's activities.
the one positive which came out of day one was that hot-as-fuck receptionist who *handled* my paperwork, i mean, FUCK!!! she was the very definition of MILF, she had the muppet face, the long brown hair, a compact, tight frame, and those impossibly huge tits bursting out of her black sweater top, i mean FUCK. the only thing left was a glance at the ass, that wouldn't come until today.
not a good night last night, couldn't get to sleep, was terrified of this relatively safe and ordinary procedure, but this wasn't a root canal in the abstract, a root canal like you see performed on Goofy in cartoons, this was real, man, this was gonna happen on me, and i couldn't get out of it, metal would touch mouth bone.
i tossed and turned all night, trying to fit my pajamed self into a proper position which wouldn't aggravate the burning right side of my mouth more but would be comfortable enough to get me at least a few winks, a few hours of rest. i counted sheep, i dreamt those sheep were on a neverending rollercoaster, anything to distract my mind, muzak song lyrics, the sheep are playing bass for Billy...before i knew it, it was 12 midnight, 1AM, i am fucked...
5:45 AM, should i eat something before? aren't you supposed to fast before major surgery? was this really major surgery? should i rinse out with that useless medicated mouthwash that local celebrity dentist had prescribed for me. fucking useless celebrity dentists. didn't do a thing for the pain, neither did the much-vaunted vicodin, it seems only two white pills of VANQUISH fits my body right, it's the only thing which helps, at least for 15 minutes. i ended up in my worried commotion wolfing down a terrible-tasting toasted onion bagel and i was off.
oh, but the milf receptionist did happily invade my dreams that night, if i did in fact dream, i don't remember, but there are traces of images stuck in my head of her and me and a country estate and cum and clit juice mixing with novocaine out there on an open-air country hammock.
the appointment is at 8, i'm early, want too much to get this shit over with, the lights aren't even on yet, the nurses are just stumbling in with their coffees and their perfect bodies. seriously, i did pick a babe field here, what is it with these women who work reception? they are all hot as mother-fuck! i mean they got their high heels showing off, they got their designer clothes knocking dead, they have that particular body shape, y'know, it's unnaturally hot, they are skinny as toothpicks but have the largest breasts you ever did see, no bra, huge puffy nipples in full view, i mean it has to be plastic surgery, right? everybody is already soaked in that field of doctors and doctor/nurse baby-daddy he-left-his-wife-for-you drama anyway, so it makes sense? at any rate, wow, i could breathe for a minute. and the asses, they all got those tight asses so readily evident in those *business pants* they wear, why, the milf herself entered the room and sauntered over to her desk, showcasing her delicious gray-pants ass. her blue eyes motioned for me to collect my insurance card. i went in the Buddhist lotus monk position waiting thirty minutes though it seemed like thirty hours, too entranced was i to notice any strange looks speared my way, if there really were any actually.
it seemed as if my execution was being delayed by the governor, but finally, a short Latina nurse led me to the gallows, the white CHAIR of doom. y'know how you read about all those medical proceedings which go horribly wrong, guy comes in for a leg cramp and ends up without a leg, woman complains of a sore, gets unnecessary surgery, dies the next day, isn't it ironic, doncha think? i figured i had had a pretty good life, a lot of my artistic and creative dreams were still left unfulfilled, had never really been in love, but, y'know, in total i had experienced things, not all bad things, so i couldn't complain, if it was my time to die, i'd go to Hell and that's where the real paperwork would begin.
all it takes to remind me that i'm not a well person, i'm not just another bloke walking down the street, i'm sick, i've got anxiety, i've got some mental problems or something, is to have me tied to a dentist chair with that deceptively-nice-colored baby bib with the cold silver chain on, i started to freak out, i asked myself how i was gonna get through this, i thought i was gonna be sedated throughout so i wouldn't have to experience anything, i'd just go to sleep and wake up some time later and everything would be over, wouldn't know any of the horrors performed on me, but it turns out, the best they could do was some nitrous oxide to calm me, i'd have to stay awake and see all the drills attack me. great, at least i could laugh it off. i thought i was gonna wrestle through out of the chair, break though the window overlooking a pastoral scene of trees and birds, and run myself straight to the mental institution for an umpteenth evaluation. who could i turn to? my girlfriend? don't have one of those. Jesus? i forsaked him as a fairy tale long ago, didn't have clearance anymore to the Big Guy in the Garden, my golden ticket had been torn up, sorry, Buddy, we need to talk...it was me alone in my suffering and panic.
fuck me, fuck my life, this is the lowest of the low, this is NOT a white Crimbus, but shit, i mean, i had to just do it somehow, my legs were turning with internal needles brought on by me before the real needles pointed. my headache grew, grew, grew...who? what? more x-rays for this and that? yes, Miss Latina, okay, whatever you want, let's just do this, is it over? oh, hasn't started, is this gonna be a quick job here? oh, it depends on how tricky my roots are. fucking roots, love their music, respect, but not the dental ones.
"Can we lower you back in the chair here," the dentist spoke, "You're a tall guy."
"Yes". i didn't turn around to see his face, it was mouth-covered anyway, was too ashamed he'd see my shame.
"Um, yeah, can i have some gas or something, i'm kinda nervous here," i said like some feeble boy.
ah-ha! some dark glasses were put on me as my eyes stared directly into the main crane dentist light, in the background an overhead oceanic painting, dolphins in the middle.
i knew i would one day be a rock star wearing sunglasses inside...i...here comes a breathing device over my mouth, oh, the beautiful swishing sound of gas, hissing, hissing, i wanted to close my eyes and fall unconscious, but at least my hard fingers which were secretly cupping my knees and close to my junk under the bib were starting to relax. my junk needed a break from the nervous, too. hiss, hiss, onto just over my lips, i must have looked like Bane or something ridiculous, they even Vaselined my full lips, too much, Rita, the doctor noticed, too much of the sticky stuff, i've heard that before: when my big lips kiss various women.
this is still all preparation, this anticipation is killing me, they're still numbing me, numbing the fuck out of my cheeks, putting something on there with something, was it a sharp silver rod? couldn't tell, had my eyes closed, it was strange, you heard the instruments bustling, but you had no idea what they actually looked like. were they pins, needles, huge hammers, bolts, all circling with energy and motorizing their lives at you, the sound of *working*, buzzing, ready to enter my mouth?!
oh my mouth, what secrets you have hid from others, even the ones you loved. now it would all come out, the lies and facades and masks you have worn with people can't help but be freed now that my mouth is helplessly WIDE OPEN, the ghosts of my past and my future failings rush out like specters and hit my tongue on their way out.
i am okay, though, because i really don't feel anything, the numb cream is working, the air is on my side, i can actually breathe a little relief, i am shielded, i have a huge big bronze shield inbetween my teeth and those needle pick crude-iron soldiers attacking my gums, the dentist can do anything to me, he could crush my teeth to bits with a hammer, he could poison my gums with a secret prick, it doesn't matter, i won't feel a thing, just the motions of hurt, the sounds of hurting instruments trying to hurt but failing, i am immune.
this is taking a long time, it's one axe to sword to battleaxe to another knife all entering my mouth rooting my fucking canal, filling up all those roots and canals with special pink salve, which might as well be street heroin, filling up all my holes as i want my favorite blogger to do some day.
it's a tricky one, it's a many-layered root, many canals sliding and trapped all over the place, hard to extract, hard to find, enough with the hide-and-seek, tag it, it's IT, no take-backs. the dentist wants me to move my tongue a certain way, to hit the roof of my mouth, but all i do is move my tongue forward out my mouth, i'm completely disoriented on my back in that chair looking up. great, the doctor thinks i'm a kindergarten idiot who still plays with shapes, who needs a mnemonic to tell his right from his left. something about Monday Night Football, he wants to take his daughter and ex-wife to a Browns game, Patriots crush the Texans, i'm looking up and the dolphins have transformed into a dragon's head.
something about dentist pellets, and codes that i know not of, 6Y, distal GH, and OP-2, stat, Rita services...and there's another voice, oh man, it's the voice of the milf from beyond the hallowed halls of Reception, she sees me splayed out, wimpering like a child, she thinks i'm a weenie, she'd never fuck me now, i'll never get to taste those tits.
something about zoning out, meditating while under here in the light and the bright, yes, that is what i'm doing, as the noisy fucking drills perform their black magics upon my person, i'm thinking of what this very blog entry will be titled, i'm thinking of what typings i will and won't include, the very sentences i'm typing now.
has it been an hour? a day? it seems to be slowing to an end, that constant gas was my constant companion, hissing and blocking evil spirits. things are coming off...
i used to make fun of dentists, even though it is statistically true that dentists out of everyone in the medical profession have the highest suicide rate since all of their patients dread seeing them, it doesn't exactly add to the self-esteem, and not mentioning the fact that December has the highest suicide rate among those who don't have a solid family and are reminded of that on Christmas Day, my usual double-whammy of doom-and-gloom vanished here, i'll never make fun of dentists again, they are heroes, he is my hero, this is a man of science, grain, salt, and worth, he fixed me, he removed my pain, and i am forever grateful. i don't shake hands, i don't shake hands with ANY humans, but i did, i turned around and shook his hand and saw that he was quite the handsome man there without the mask, like a clean-shaven Brad Pitt, i said "thank you very much" and i said it from the bottom of my still-beating heart...i tried to shake the hand of Rita, but she flew away.
the milf helped me set up another appointment for my crown placing, i stared at her tits and her blue eyes about the same...now that's a lie. she explained something to me about not eating granola bars right away or i'd undo all that fucking work in one sad bite, i was busy rearranging my sex dreams in my head again, my spank bank was rebooting as i turned and walked out the door. she said my name, though, the milf said "Phoenix!"
driving out the windy roads past the cluster of village houses which encased all those dentists and babe receptionists who smelled so nice, you women always smell so nice, huh? that's what hooks us men, it works every time, we men barely use soap once a week, it's that fresh exotic smell of a hot woman which entices a man's base senses..and i sense something, down in the bottom left-half of my jaw, the part that wasn't worked on, two short sharp jolts of pain...

No comments: