Recently I had the opportunity of spending an hour or so of quality time with a professional sadist. “You won’t feel a thing,” he snickered, picking up one heavy gauge hypodermic needle, which he regarded disdainfully before replacing it on the tray and picking up a bigger, longer needle.
I had originally procured Dentist X’s services because I had a tooth that needed capping. It was my second visit to him. The first time, his eyes had lit up when he looked at my dental X-ray. “You’ve got a wisdom tooth here,” he said.
“Yes. Subcutaneous dentation. It needs to go.”
I replied that it didn’t hurt and had never given me any trouble, so since it had never bothered me, why bother it?
“Wisdom teeth are a genetic throwback, and completely useless,” he explained. “They always go bad.”
” So why do we have wisdom teeth? I asked.
“In case the economy falters, I’ve got to get my Mercedes payments and country club dues from somewhere.”
I appreciated his honesty. He went on to explain that wisdom teeth are a proven fount of economic opportunity; most everybody has them, though no one is sure exactly why, and nobody needs them. So anytime a dentist feels an economic pinch, he can simply say, as he had to me, “Before I can do this or that procedure, your wisdom tooth has to come out!” Even though the wisdom tooth in question was on the bottom right hand side of my mouth and the tooth that needed to be capped was an upper on the left hand side, I didn’t question his expertise. He was the expert on extractions. Besides, this was the second time he’d asked. And he seemed determined to get it.
After administering a series of painful Novocain injections with the biggest, longest needle he could find – shots intended, ironically, to reduce pain – he then asked me if I wanted to inhale some nitrous oxide. “No thanks,” I told him. As a firm believer in self medication I’d taken precautions against a bad dental experience by dropping some peyote just prior to coming into his office.
Thus, last Monday, enraptured by the peyote and therefore able to ignore the mini geysers of blood that the drill hurled up from my mouth, and the fact that his assistant had turned into a three-breasted demon dressed in a white wedding gown, and lulled into a state of pacification by the sharp and hungry scream of the drill, my mind was able to drift away from the dental torture chamber and the dentist and his assistant – who were now laughing and talking in an unknown tongue – and once again float leisurely down the many-doored corridor of time. Here, after going only a short way, I opened a door marked 2009 . . . . and visited Obama world.
Doo rags will be the fashion come-back of the century.
- In addition to having a social security number, everyone in the United States will be legally required to have a colorful street name.
- The national anthem will be changed to “Amerika” and the opening lyrics to “Yo, say can you see . . .”
- Tupac Shakur will be added to Mount Rushmore.
- The new national sport will be car jacking.
- At Reverend Wright’s insistence, Obama will appoint a scientific committee to figure out how the Ancient Egyptian’s grew wings and flew.
- Mistakenly thinking it’s a racial slur, an overly zealous member of Obama’s secret service Posse will shoot Vice President Biden for referring to Obama as P.O.T.U.S.
- Air Force One will be equipped with a bass-enhanced 4000 decibel sound system, with which Obama will fly repeatedly over the mid-west during late night hours to piss off all the rednecks, gun lovers and bible-thumpers who opposed him.
- Judge Joe Brown will Obama’s first appointee to the Supreme Court.
- In the military, in acknowledgment of minority cultural habits, cuing up in food lines or elsewhere will be done away with and ‘first come, first serve’ will be the rule.
- Driving the wrong way down parking lot isles and then trying to back into a space will become a national fad.
- As well, the game of “moping” — until it begins unduly taxing the national health system and is outlawed — will become a brief fad among Hispanics, Caucasians, and Asiaiatics. Moping is the black practice of picking a multi-lane highway and crossing it at some arbitrary point (anywhere as long as there’s not a cross-walk or traffic light within 100 feet) with a sloth that would embarrass most bipedal primates. Points are given for: the number of lanes crossed, traffic density, number of brake squeals one can engender, and style: pimp walk for males, and number of “duckies” for the females (duckies refer to the minor children who accompany a female participant).