The Fishwhacker Swindle?: Fun in the chair

Friday, April 10, 2009

Fun in the chair

Missed me?

Like hell you have. You fickle bastards. You f --

be nice. remember the programme. breathe deeply

I went to the dentist a couple of months back. In the waiting room there were these pictures on the wall that were like Edward Hopper's - landscapes soiled by petrol stations - but with clowns cartwheeling across them. Clowns riding giant bull mastiffs. The tooth decay had rotted into my bloodstream, clearly.

The solitary other occupant of the room sat opposite me and glared over his magazine and said 'What?' He looked like Jimmy Destri, the keyboard player from Blondie. I said, 'Lay a question to bed for me. Did you ever shag Debbie?' He replied in an Upper East Side New York City accent: 'What's shag mean, asshole?' I reeled back, too stupefied to speak, my fingers fumbling at the pages of a copy of Dostoevsky's The Brothers Karamazov. What the hell was that doing in a dentist's waiting room, I wondered. Except it wasn't; it was a copy of Cosmo. I read about fruit-based orgasms and about a new catwalk sensation named Claudia Schiffer. Hang on, she was new back in 1991.

Priti, my dentist, looms over my face and sticks metallic hooks and probes in my mouth. I try to tell her that my molar is seeding bacteria into my bloodstream and I'm delirious and about to die. She murmurs something incomprehensible and wrenches, violently. A whitish thing pops up and out across the periphery of my right visual field. Her Polish nurse shrieks and then giggles. There's a streak of blood on my collar (I discover much later).

It was burrowing down into my jaw, says Priti. It would have killed me eventually. Well, she doesn't say that, quite, but the implication hangs as pregnant as her distended belly. (Aren't these dental gases bad for unborn children, for X sakes?) I thank and congratulate her and exit, one tooth short for the first time since I was nine years old.

At the desk the receptionist tries to charge me and I argue that I'm leaving with less - one molar less - than I came in with, so she should be paying me. She says I'm a decrepit old shit and as far as she's concerned I can fuck off to the local graveyard where she'll happily lay a brown cable on my patch. No she doesn't, really, but she would if she didn't have to cling to her job in this climate. I take comfort from the fact that I at least have two eyes whereas she has a painted pebble askew in her left socket and one ear missing. No she doesn't, I'm just bitter.

I went home in pain. The superior half and the baby were away visiting on the other side of town and, it being a Friday evening, I cracked open a bottle of Cape pinotage and watched Nosferatu the Vampyre, the 1979 Werner Herzog remake. Klaus Kinski's count has a perfect pair of rat-like incisors in this film.

# posted by Foot Eater @ 10:11 am

Comments:

Yet look how neatly he maintains his moustache.

Not going to the dentist is tremendously important in many pain-free ways. Going to the dentist only ever leads to dental work, i've found. There ought to be a bar in the waiting room of every last one of them. Including paediatric dentists.

# posted by

pronblemchildbride : 3:15 am

Went to see Leonard Cohen last night in LA. You were right. It was magical.

# posted by

problemchildbride : 3:30 am

And his new live CD and DVD were recorded in the same venue I saw him last year, if not on the same night as I'd originally thought.

Keeping things on topic: didn't he have excellent teeth? (I wouldn't know; I was watching the Webb sisters. Are they still his backing singers-cum-solosts-in-their-own-right?)

# posted by

Foot Eater : 7:58 am

They were last night. They looked like Resistance messengers, one with a beret, one with a fedora. He himself was very sprightly and skipped in and off the stage like a mere bairny Cohen grasshopper, a wise one with a voice deeper than reason. Unforgettable night.

As to his teeth, I was seated about a quarter mile away from him so I really couldn't say. Only that they are genius teeth.

# posted by

problemchildbride : 9:21 am

I sat in the toilet stall next to the one Leonard Cohen was in once, his turd smelled like 'discovery' amazing!

A belated happy birthday to you and I hope the dentistry really hurt.

# posted by

Old Knudsen : 2:05 pm

That's my mouth you fucker.
c'mon footy cheer me up for fuck's sake cos i'm blue and it's friday and im in again . throw us a fucking bone here.

# posted by

Dr Maroon : 6:17 am

You should really quit doing meth.

# posted by

Fat Sparrow : 4:59 pm

FE you old bastard, i by chance saw you hovering around Maroon's blog and came to see you here. fucking April man?! you are as pathetic as i am at blogging!

# posted by

sarah : 7:28 am

Bastard I might be, but who are you calling old? Blogging is essentially an international circle jerk, anyway, I've decided. Though if you really want to crawl up your rectum, try Facebook.

Are you on Facebook, by the way? I am. Drop me an email.

# posted by

Foot Eater : 9:36 am

i don't know your email! i am on facebook, but rarely sign in. i do if one of my sisters instructs me to. meaning she has sent me something on there or has posted a photo of one of her children.

life's a mess.

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