Tuesday, 7 October 2008

They were Soft and Lovely and Bountiful

I recanted my previous dental episode to the taxi driver as he drove me to another appointment. Why I felt the need to share I'm still not sure. Probably nerves.

"Here's wah yi wanna do. Git pished, get yer mate til pull it out fer ye and then bung him a tenner."
not for me thank you....

He assured me that's what he does when he feels the niggling twinge of toothache and then he smiled at me. He wasn't lying. He had a mouth that would make Shane Magowan wince. I knew then I was doing the right thing by going back to get my whole toothy architecture brought back to something close to normal. The dentist had indicated, mainly by rubbing her hands with glee and ordering champagne, on my last visit that there was major work required, something akin to what the good people of Dresden faced after the allies had bombed the shit out of their city. I was facing much the same costs for reconstruction too.

I sat patiently in the waiting room with all the other sorry cases hoping that the keeper of the diary behind the perspex glass would call our name next. Many candy lovers and toothpaste dodgers were called before the receptionist finally summonsed me.

"Ticket? Meal Ticket?"

That'll be me then.

"There you go Mr Ticket, room five, top of the stairs."

And off I skipped or something close to skipping up the stairs to room five at the top of the stairs. The dentist, now sporting a diamond crusted tiara and golden smock, welcomed me with a hearty hello.

"Ach Mr Ticket! How are you today? Still eating the gob stoppers and hard candy I hope?"

Oh yes the major reconstruction and salvaging work of my teeth was gonna pay off big time. The dentists big lamp thingy had been replaced with a golden chandelier and the dentists assistant had acquired herself an assistant of her own, a charming if overly effeminate boy named Jim Bob. He occupied himself with the peeling of grapes and other such frippery.

I lay there quietly on the dentists chair feeling my mouth go numb and listening to the merry and relaxed discourse between the dentist and her assistant.

"Oh I'm getting a red speedboat!"

"Red? Oh me too!"

"Can you feel any pain Mr Ticket?"

I muttered, "no" but thought, "only in my wallet."

A few moments later and she was peering over me from behind smiling and telling me not to worry.

Worry? Worry about what? And then it started, the drill. Is there a darker and more sadistic sound in the whole of christendom? I think fucking not.

Outwardly I was, as the dentist kept saying, "a very brave boy" inwardly I was crying like a fat kid in a candy shop with his mouth wired shut. There wasn't much pain but it was mightily uncomfortable. She kept telling me I was being "a very brave boy". If I hadn't had so many fingers, drills, suck pipes, and what have you in my mouth I would have told her I was thirty fucking five and not five.

But as the drill was switched from it's setting of mild discomfort to "she cannae take it any more captain" I did feel like a very brave boy, a very brave boy who was on the verge of crying out loud and quite probably messing himself.

As she pushed forward with all her tools and gadgets I pushed back. I kept pushing back to the point where I was more off the seat than on. To counteract my wriggling she pushed forward with more gusto than previous.

And then I found my happy place. A place where I found no pain, a place free from the satanic whirring of the drill, where the poke poke of the sucky suck pipe didn't bother me. It was so enchanting I could have fallen asleep for an age. It was soft and lovely and bountiful.

Of course when I realised I was in fact nestling my head on the dentists ample bosoms I withdrew quick sharpish and apologised between gulps of air. But it was quite lovely and given the option next time between gas, injection or bosoms as my preferred method of pain relief I'll be taking the boobs.

Moments later it was all over and half my mouth was something close to being perfect again. I gargled, wiped, blushed at the dentist and said a very nervous almost embarrassed goodbye. Nestling your head in a highly trained professionals boobies cant be good can it? That said I cant wait to go back.

I got a right slap when I told Little Miss Manuel, but hey at least I told her.

30 People trying to get Manuel's attention:

Sniffle&Cry said...

Pervert

Sniffle&Cry said...

In a good way

Manuel said...

sinffle & cry: bastard....

Manuel said...

sniffle & cry: that's right you know what I meant

belfastyouthworker said...

ha!!! go on ye boy ye!!! bate it in till er!

Manuel said...

byw: jaysus you're terrible!

Medbh said...

I was talking to this woman who said she had this flouride treatment done to coat the teeth and prevent any future cavities. It was $500. for the treatment but it means you never have to endure the drill again.
Tempting.

Manuel said...

medbh: it's regular brushing and trips to the dentist for me.......

Darragh said...

Do you get the boobie treatment on the NHS?

Silverstar said...

Well, I hope that at least you were still numb when LMM slapped you.

paddy said...

boobies - is there no limit to their powers?

MJ said...

Off topic: Your job is about to go to the monkeys.

English Mum said...

Hmmm. I'm a firm believer in the therapeutic effects of a nice pair of boobs. Perhaps not in a medical sense but still...

Oh, and I'm totally with Little Miss Manuel on the slap. You deserved that x

sheepworrier said...

Ah, boobies - is there anything they can't do?
Cornershop were right.

dave said...

Old Knudsen would be proud of ya.

Melissa said...

Where would your head have rested had your dentist been a bloke?? Perish the thought!

Manuel said...

darragh: not with my dentist you don't

silverstar: no, no I wasn't

paddy: I should also say that the dentist was very good at her job....

mj: I have seen that and I have laughed.....I laughed so so much

english mum: no I didn't!

sheepo: lovely pillow

old k: we don't encourage that sort of thing round here.......

melissa: I'd a toughed it out though if it had been a bloke......

Red hair, Red face said...

I was at the orthodontist before....evil little man...took great joy in filling my mouth with all sorts of retainers and braces etc...anyway, he wouldn't wear the gloves....so he used to sick his bare hands into my mouth....and they tasted of coffee......sick

Conan Drumm said...

What, she's giving you commission?

Manuel said...

red hair: bleurgh!!!

conan: eh?

Lottie said...

There's not need to any sense of guilt Manuel - Dentists are mean horrible filth of the earth who chose their profession from an uncontrollable desire to inflict pain and financial distress on unsuspecting patients.

Manuel said...

lottie: oh clearly you have not so repressed dental memories.......let it out, let it all out.....

Conan Drumm said...

You describe your trip to the dentits (sic) and you just know that everyone's going to want at least a check-up and a polish from the lady. You've got to be on a percentage!

BK said...

lmfao! I was at the dentist yesterday... Tiny lady dentist as strong as a Ninja! *sniffle* Plenty of drill baby drill!

We should evolve our mouths in our hands so it wouldn't be so awkward to get treatment.

Kitty Cat said...

Haha, silly buttons! Mine seem to cure my fella of tiredness or wanting to read in bed.

savannah said...

now that was funny! i could see you drift off to your happy place, sugar! xoxoxo

problemchildbride said...

My only aesthetic requirement for a dentist has been whittled down over the years to Keeps Nasal Hair Well Trimmed (Women Too). That and not looking like my current dentist.

Medbh, I'd definitely consider that fluoride thing if it was guaranteed. Off for a Google.

A.C said...

Have you read the part in 'a million little pieces'where he goes to the dentist, horrific if not true?

A.C said...

http://www.scribd.com/doc/287604/James-Frey-A-Million-Little-Pieces
starts on page 58

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