Dentist

It looks like torture and it is.

It’s been a while since I’ve written anything original on the blog which I can largely put down to three things.  Firstly, the fact that I’ve recently started a new job working in the field of psychology, yes “psychology,” as well as the fact that generally speaking I’ve been apathetically lazy, and thirdly because “you lot” probably couldn’t care less anyway.

Following on from last year’s experimental flirtation with the controversial anti-addiction psychotropic drug Ibogaine – the African voodoo drug currently banned in Australia, I have embarked on more leisurely pursuits closer to home.

Seldom can it be said that I rarely do things by halves.  When I was a smoker, I would smoke forty cigarettes a day, which, believe it or not, actually takes quite a concerted effort. You’ve basically got to have one on the go all the time.

Consider for example, that within the confines of a busy office environment, a “typical chain smoker” (I know, a concept which is now considered a thing of the past largely because they’ve all died out), would perhaps smoke a cigarette every fifteen minutes.

By the time you’ve clocked off from work you’ve probably smoked a packet and half, and sure enough the prospect of knocking off another 10 or 20 cigarettes in the space of a few hours at the pub is a walk in the park.

Like smoking and drinking and other profoundly harmful but nonetheless immensely satisfying pursuits, I like to throw myself into the deep end, with an enthusiasm that would otherwise be considered stupid and reckless in today’s politically correct circles.

Basically, I’m what you might call, an “all or nothing kind of guy”.

Recently, I found a new dentist in Moonee Ponds. A middle-aged middle-Eastern man with impeccable white teeth who was charming as well as slightly camp. After a quick poke and feel (of my teeth) he told that my teeth were being worn down by “grinding.”

And for this, I would require a “plate” to be made which I would have to wear before going to bed at night to prevent any further wear and tear.

What causes that ?, I asked trying to sound as innocent as possible, while all the time knowing that he’s probably thinking “here’s another speed freak” before saying, “oh, it’s probably just something you do subconsciously…”

Dentists these days, have the whole racket sorted out.

On the walls surrounding me were posters of young people with brilliant white smiles, as well as before and after shots of people who had undergone “Zoom” whitening treatment.

What’s that all about?, I asked, feigning interest while simultaneously trying to distract attention from his rapidly drawing conclusions that I was just another patient who needs to lay off the crack pipe.

“Oh, that’s our new whitening treatment, it’s really good. It usually costs $1000 but this month it’s only $750” he said.

“Put me down for one of those…” I said, somehow thinking that perhaps my ambition to have a nice set of pearlers would impress him.

It seemed like a good idea at the time, but the so-called “teeth whitening procedure” actually involves your mouth being placed in an open vice like device which stretches your mouth open for one hour while a bright light shines on some sort of radioactive gel smeared on your teeth in the hope that it might make them a shade or two lighter.

So here I am two weeks later, and two thousand dollars poorer with sparkling white teeth, and a plate I’ll never probably wear, because oddly enough it’s as comfortable as shoving a dinner plate in your gob before you go off to sleep.