Just got back from the dentist, and I look like a refugee from Moonraker. Why? Well, it's a little bit of a long story...I'm having a crown replaced. I'm beginning to think that my teeth are made of shale. Honestly, you don't normally hear about 31-year-olds getting crowns, and it's even more rare to hear about 31-year-olds getting crowns replaced. This means that this stretch of my jaw is a two-time loser. Three-time loser if you count the intermediate temporary crown that went three rounds with an ill-advised caramel and lost. Riesen, confound your deliciousness!
Anyway, my dentist will install the permanent replacement during my next appointment. Why he couldn't just shove it in today, I don't know. The temporary crown that he used, however, is the inspiration for this post. When I got back to the office, I went to the ladies' room to check out my smile now that I'm not all gappy on one side. And what did I see winking back at me? Why, it was a tooth with a silver patina.
Now, I'm not vain. Okay, I'm not super vain. But I'm a little chuffed that I wasn't forewarned that this temporary would be so completely different from the rest of my teeth. All I can think is that this is how Bond henchman Jaws (see picture above) got his start. He had a crown replaced, and at the temporary stage, he gazed at his visage and thought, "You know, that silver tooth makes me look bad ASSSSSSS! I must get me a mouthful of these!" This is prior to the dawn of Grillz, where having a mouth of metal took a lot of dedication.
Oh well. Early June is just around the corner.
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