My usual dentist was away on maternity leave and had been replaced by a woman so voluptuous that it was almost suspicious, (the gratuitous drawing of attention to her figure is an essential detail!) Having talked me through the process of removing a broken tooth and replacing it with a temporary crown she leaned over, whereupon one of her pendulous breasts slapped firmly against my face; engulfing my right eye and settling against my cheek.
She seemed not to have noticed and diligently went about her work. With my one good eye I tried to signal to her assistant (‘Is this normal?’) She too appeared ambivalent, (either that or she didn’t speak eye-mind).
For 40 minutes (seemed longer) I lay under the warm weight of her heaving bosom – a strangely emasculating experience if truth be told. I hadn’t needed any anaesthetic as there was no root to offend, but by the end of the procedure my face was completely numb.
Afterwards the dentist (surely we should’ve been on first-name terms by this point) asked me if I’d like to keep the mould they’d made of my jaw. I couldn’t see any practical use for it, but it was going in the bin otherwise, so I said yes and took receipt of a macabre looking little plastic bag – Exhibit A:
‘How soon before I can eat anything?’ I asked.
‘Oh, straight away,’ she replied.
Having failed to ask for her phone number I left the surgery and went to a local supermarket in search of lunch. At the check out, whilst trying to retrieve my wallet, I succeeded in fumbled the aforementioned item out onto the conveyer belt.
Even I had to admit that it looked like something you’d find in Jeffrey Dahmer’s fridge. It would be an exaggeration to say that the cashier screamed, but she did press the help (panic) button, prompting the appearance of an equally bemused looking colleague.
‘I haven’t murdered anyone if that’s what you were thinking.’
Evidently they were…
On an entirely unrelated topic I’ve just started uploading some of my songs to: