Hot Air Balloon Lips and a Poker Connection.

In the nearly two years that I have lived in the desert I have neglected to get those routine, 6 month teeth cleanings. I do brush and recently have become obsessed with flossing. Too little too late I guess. I noticed some discomfort. Not pain, per se, just enough sensation to know that something was awry. This moring I finally pulled out the phone book and, based on geography, chose a dentist near my home. I did the "walk-in thing" not knowing if the doc would see me today or 6 weeks from next Tuesday. It must have been my lucky day as the nice lady behind the counter said that I could be seen today. As I was filling out a ream of paperwork, an Asian man came in and sat down. He was talking on a cell phone in his native language. Don't ask me what language because it is all Greek to me. During his heated conversation a few English phrases jumped out at me. Gibberish, gibberish, gibberish, NUT FLUSH DRAW, gibberish, gibberish, TOP PAIR etc. The semantics of poker must not translate well. It struck me as funny, but then I am, well, me.
With the paperwork completed I decided to pick up a magazine to kill time. Hmmm, not much to choose from. OK, I'll peruse GQ. I've never been a fashionista and don't intend to start now, but there was not much to choose from. Mr. Murphy, come on back. Eighteen x-rays later I start leafing through GQ. Interruption as the doc describes the error of my ways and the torture that I just may have to suffer. The words "possible root canal" stand out as the most terrifying of the possibilities. I stop her there and ask if a simple extraction might suffice. OH NO she says, that is a last resort.....structural change, teeth shifting blah blah. Off she goes to leave me to stew about the possibilities. I turn back to the magazine hoping to be magically transported to another place, another time. I come upon an article about Entourage. Never seen it, don't have HBO. Someone jumps off of the page. Turns out that I have been dealing to/seen around the poker room, Adrian Grenier. http://www.hbo.com/entourage/img/252x190/episodes/season02/ep09_vince_headshot_252.jpg What struck me most about him is that he has impossibly thick hair. It is probably just jealousy since mine is getting thinner by the minute and that really thin spot in the top rear keeps getting, well, really thinner. Who would have thought that a nice little visit to the dentist would have caused me to run into two poker related situations.
Since I am a pop culture idiot, I wonder who else I may have dealt to and never even put two and two together. Probably lots of the stars of today. Sometimes I guess it is better to just be oblivious.
Not to worry, the nice dentist only drilled and prodded for about 6 hours. At least it seemed that long. Her professional opinion is that I won't be needing that root canal after all. (See, it WAS my lucky day) I left the office with that wonderful "my lips are as big as a hot air balloon" feeling that we all love so much. I lit a cigarette but I had to keep looking in the rear view mirror to see if the cigarette was actually in my mouth or if I was sticking it up my nose. Did I mention how much I LOVE that feelilng? I didn't? Good because I don't like it at ALL. Once, back in Hagerstown, MD I was in need of a filling. I told the doc that I didn't want novacaine. He looked at me like I was insane. I told him to just start drilling. At least when he was done, I was done. None of this balloon-lip shit for the next few hours. Several times during the procedure he stopped to ask if he could give me a shot. I bluntly told him to stop wasting time and get it over with. I know I left the imprints of my fingers in the arms of his chair, but like I said, when he was done, I was done.
I wonder where that "courage" went.
I get to go back a week from today for more of the same. I guess that will be my next bad beat and I will once again leave the office a slobbering, big lipped fool.
Now where did I put the floss?