So I found myself at the dentist again. Yes, again. They really like me there. I am paying for schooling, a midlife crisis car, and at least one cabin on a lake. I’m fairly sure they celebrate when I walk in the door, and maybe even close early to have champagne. But I digress.
What I realized at the dentist today, as they reached into the far recesses of my face, stretching it out like one of those heavy-duty elastics you find on carrots, that this is about the only time I get to watch endless TV. Not great TV, but hours of it: random shit like Judge Judy, five episodes in a row. I’m not saying this is a good thing, just an interesting fact. I will only watch endless tv if I am recovering from a surgery or very, very ill. Otherwise I’d rather be doing all the other things I like doing, and they all take lots of time. And TV is the all time time suck of all time.( I know I’m repeating myself, but I’ve had quite a lot of nitrous today).
And THAT is another good thing about the dentist. Life gives you lemons? Just say yes to the free nitrous! Its as close as you can get to ever being high again, now that you are a (somewhat) reliable parent! After I said yes to the free nitrous and didn’t tell her to turn it down, I relaxed into a mind numbing few episodes of a cook-off show on the food channel. Putting the food channel on when you clearly are nowhere near a snack is a bit cheeky, I think, but whatever. Just pile it on people.
I found myself actually rooting for some of the cooks. If someone had given me a chunk of Elk, a plum compote, a bag of taco mix and some desert sprinkles, I would have said, OK! We’re having plum Elk with dessert sprinkles with a side of taco powder! And be the first to go. Not only did I grow up thinking that speghettio’s with hunks of meat in them was a step up, but I learned how to make approximately three dishes, two of which were pasta. I got better, but not by much. I have been known to be inventive, usually not in a good way. So I was learning things today, things like Balsamic Elk-sweat reduction and sweet taco compote. I learned about chutney and how to turn fettuccine into dessert, and that you can actually do something with very few ingredients, if you know how to add the right ones to it. Several sucks more of nitrous and I was onto a new show, one all about the production of malted milk balls. This is when you know you are actually high. I thought…
My brother likes malted milk balls. Or he did. I wonder if he still does? I should ask him. Wow so that’s how they do it. They spank the taffy with machines and then chop it into bits and then slam it into balls and roll them around, eventually spraying them with chocolate like one would paint a car. And then shellac them. So. How long would they last, if I took one out and left it in the car for three weeks? Could I still eat it? I bet I could.When was the last time I had a milk ball…? But before I could descend further into these culinary mysteries it was on to something else. And that’s when another earth shattering revelation hit me.
This is why people get high. So they can watch tv and not give a shit about anything for a little while. They can escape into blessed milk ball bliss and let their mind do a staycation. So I inhaled a bit more, and tried to ignore the hand that would randomly block out my view at inopportune times. Also the dental dam and the fact that the new hygienist sprayed water directly into my throat and then followed it up with a blast of cold air, which I made me hack like a cat bringing up a big one. So I bit her suction tube. I was distracted, you know? And also for one brief moment I panicked and thought I might drown in my own spit.
I mean, they were trying to fix my failed teeth so I should really be thankful, one of which was a wisdom tooth, that I told him to just pull.
“Just yank that one, whatever,” I said, in my happy place of daytime TV. He looked at me for a few moments before letting me know it was a viable tooth, that my mouth was using it, and that we were instead capping it in gold. Judas Priest, thanks for that. Have a nice time at the lake. Sigh. He went back to blocking my view. I really wanted to know this time, who was going to win? Tito, who was getting his life back on track, or Shelly, who decided to completely chuck her life as a meteorologist to become a master chef? But no, the hand block. I will never know, alas, I wish them well. Anyone that can whip up gelatin meatballs with a sprinkling of lemongrass and hot sauce on a bed of plantain shards is a god.
So next time you are at the dentist, watch some TV. Kick back, learn something new! Hey, it could be worse: it could be 100 years ago when they just yanked your nasty tooth with a pair of pliers and wished you luck. At least now there’s Judge Judy to keep you company.