[Internet proceeds to frantically click the "back" button, taking them far, far away from all this thrilling dentist talk]
I take pretty good care of my teeth, flossing daily and whatnot, so I'm not really nervous about going to the dentist. Particularly my dentist. He's a little nutty, and strikes me as a hybrid of Doc Brown in Back to the Future (down to the long white hair) and Mr. Monopoly. Today, for instance, his brand new purebred puppy was brought to the office, whereupon said puppy was shown off to all who were present. During another recent visit, while I sat there being tortured by the hygienist, he peeked in, and (as the hygienist and I took in his crazy, windblown white hair sticking up every which way,) said to us, "I have one piece of advice for you: Do not drive your new convertible with the top down when your hair is wet."
Yes. Yes! This is precisely the kind of useful advice I need, right up there with, “How much to tip your houseboy." "What to do if your diamond-encrusted gloves are too small." and of course, "Which champagne is best for christening your new yacht." Despite this, he is extremely competent, and couldn't be nicer. Each and every time I see him, however, I'm disappointed by something. You see, whenever I go the dentist, I engage in a 20-minute long brushing and flossing regimen prior to my departure, secretly hoping each time that the following situation will transpire:
Hygienist: Hi there! [Waits until she starts rooting around my mouth to ask me a series of involved questions:] How are you? How’s your family? What’s your theory on Lost? How do you think we can achieve world peace?
Me: Flarggg; hmm shmmfff—
H: [Gasps] Oh. My. God. Your teeth are… perfect! They couldn’t be cleaner! There’s nothing left for me to do here. Hold on, let me show Gladys!
M: [Blushing] Well y’know, I try…
H: Gladys! GLADYS! Look at her teeth!
Gladys: They’re…glorious! [Weeps.]
Delivery Guy: What’s all the commotion?! I was just in the neighborhood, and…my God, those teeth are FLAWLESS!
Dentist: [Enters room, wipes away tear, commences The Slow Clap.] Well done, my dear. Well done. Run along now, and tell the world of your peerless dental hygiene!Annnnnd...scene.
Needless to say, that NEVER happens. Jerks.
And now, for something that is the complete and total opposite of the suckiness that is going to the dentist: My evening with Guinness Girl!
We’ve met before, on one of her earlier trips to
Here we are:
I took her to the Flatiron Lounge, where we had many amazing and unique drinks, including one that contained egg whites, a first for both of us. Our waitress explained to us that this is actually common in certain “real” cocktails for the texture it imparts, and behold, she was right. Who knew? Such philistines we are. (The drink, by the way, was fantastic.) Speaking of weird things in drinks (as well as the fact that the last time GG and I got together, the subsequent post announced a contest), …CONTEST TIME!
You see, after the egg white chat with our waitress, we got to talking about the most disgusting things we’d mixed with alcohol in our younger days. Young GG had tried a drink that put mine to shame, but I’ll let her tell you about that, should she choose to enter the contest that our discussion inspired...which, is, officially, as follows:
What is the grossest thing you’ve ever mixed with alcohol and subsequently drank? (Bonus points if the resultant concoction has a fun name.)
The prize is an adorable lip gloss treat (seriously, it's super cute), and a CD of the songs on my iTunes Playlist of Shame. (Okay, okay, I’ll also throw in some good music.) As always, the foxy and impartial J will help me judge.
UPDATE: Um, hi; I completely forgot to link to the lipgloss prize...and to specify that the contest ends Friday.