Aug 27, 2009

That's the Tooth.

On Saturday night, after a long-winded discussion with a bouncer at a local nightclub about dress-code, and how ridiculous it was that a man cannot enter without sleeves on his shirt, but a woman could enter with her tits hanging out, I realized that something was up with one of my molars. I informed the ladies that I thought my filling was coming out, and then had a few shooters to forget about it.

By the next morning, I was missing at least three quarters of said tooth. It hurt, almost as much as my hangover.

On Monday morning, I decided I had to try and get in to see the dentist. Luckily, they could get me in by 2:30pm that day.

I finished my work, and then headed out for some retail therapy. While perusing cardigans at Walmart, I overheard some girls talking about the AC/DC concert that was that night, and how they couldn't believe that 40,000 people had "wasted their money to see some band that hadn't done anything in 20 years". I bit my lip, glared at them a little, and figured they either A) they must not be from small town Saskatchewan, or B) they were more the type of girls that would spend $200 to see New Kids on the Block.

So anyways, at 2:30pm, I went to visit the dentist. After gagging during 3 X-rays, and discussing the fact that my dental plan licks balls, and I'm broke, we decided that the molar wasn't all that important, and he would just pull it. If I ever won the lottery, I would get a fake tooth put in at that time.

It took 3 needles for my mouth to feel the slightest bit numb. The dentist started to twist and turn and pull on the bloody tooth, but it just would not budge. He realized that the root was attached to the molar beside it for some reason. Alas, that one had to go too.

After some tears, and screaming, and worrying that I was scaring the children in the chairs around me, the fucking things came out. And yes, I felt every last bit of it. Ouch.

However, my main concern was that it was already after 4pm, and I needed to pick up my AC/DC tickets in an hour, and get to the show!

With a mouth full of bloody gauze, that I changed about 12 times throughout the evening, I somehow was a trooper, and had an amazing time at the show. By the end, I was a mess....tired, sore, and in no mood to party like I had promised. I felt like a big baby, but I had to go home.

Although it was well worth it, I hope you appreciate what I went through for you AC/DC.

Oh, and thanks for the amazing show!

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