Ironically, it was the last one from a bag I'd bought in October, and I somehow managed to suck it all the way down to the gum core without crunching into it after a few licks, per usual. It was only when I starting chewing on the gum, that I realized there was something amiss. Why is there a crunchy piece in my gum when the candy's all gone?

Of course, like a fucking idiot, my first reaction was to continue chewing. Why, it must be a stray piece of candy. No worries.

After two more disconcerting chews, I finally realized I needed to STOP. CHEWING.

Something's most definitely wrong aboard the Good Ship Lollipop.

I extracted the wad of gum to discover my chipped crown and a broken piece.

Well, FUCK. I baggied up my $500 worth of dental work with hopes of salvation, then called the dentist to see if I could stop in for a quick fixer-upper.

Turns out, Friday afternoon is not a good time to have your crown break off, because no one answered. I vaguely remembered they only worked half days on Fridays, because like the rest of medical people, being in the office when something's MOST LIKELY TO OCCUR is exactly when THEY'RE NOT THERE.

By the time Monday rolled around, I was used to the nub o' a tooth underneath (which had been subjected to TWO -- count 'em -- root canals). I got into the habit of chewing on my right side. My dental appointment was only a few weeks away, so I figured I'd just wait.

Not a good idea. The gum around the nub was swollen up. When the hygienist tried to put the main portion back on for a test fit, I kicked my legs and made (small office volume appropriate) howling noises. 'Remember when ACE bandages used to have little metal clasps with sharp prongs to hold the bandage in place, before Velcro became the norm? Well, it felt like she was squishing one of those down on my gum.

I KNOW.

She was concerned about the swelling, and wasn't sure they'd be able to re-use the crown. Once she was finished with my cleaning (gets more uncomfortable every year), we had to wait till the dentist was done with another patient.

While I sat there in the chair, with my crinkly bib and without my glasses, wondering why she'd skipped the step of flossing my teeth, she started chatting about the weather ("oh, storm clouds are back. It's getting dark out there.")

I was facing away from the window, so I had to take her word for it. I tried to keep my eyes closed and relax, but she started prattling on about how she couldn't get a hold of her son, and how she REALLY needed him to put dinner in the oven for some school meeting that night.

After five more minutes, I learned: the dish was baked spaghetti and the meeting was with the football coach. She was tired and could sooooo take a nap right now (me too, SHUT UP).

A few minutes later she decided to dial her son again. When he answered she wandered off within earshot: "Hey, whatcha doin'? Where are you? Is Dad home yet? I said, is Dad home yet? Oh, ok. How'd the test go today? Really? Great! Hey, I need you to do a REALLY BIG FAVOR for me. I need you to put that dish in the fridge in the oven for me. You did? Already? Oh! Well, great! Thanks, hon. I'll see ya soon."

I was THIS close to falling asleep, when she came back. "It's all taken care of!"

I looked at her with one eye. She was blurry. But appeared delighted. I replied "Excellent."

By this time, we both seemed concerned about how much longer the dentist would be with the other patient. When the drill starting hissing, we knew it would be a bit longer.

It was nearing 5:00. I could tell she was antsy to get on her way.

She looked out the window and then inquired: "So, do you like Grey's Anatomy?"

"Oh, yeah."

"I can never remember when it's on though and miss it half the time!"

"Yeah, well I finally got TiVo, and it's on season pass." It was hard to hold a conversation without my glasses on, but I pretended to be Helen Keller and struggled forward.

"Oh, you have TiVo? How does that work, exactly?"

"Well, it takes a bit of set-up and unless you have broadband, you have to use a phone line to pull in the TV guide updates."

"How long does that take? Does it tie up the phone line?"

"Well, initially it does. But afterwards, the system calls in for updates at random times for a few minutes, so not really. If you're on the phone, it won't dial in, and if you pick up the phone at the time it's trying to make a call, it'll cancel. So it works out."

"Oh...So what does it look like on the screen? Are there a bunch of messages on the TV or something?"

I was in blurry visioned small talk HEAVEN.

"Yeah, when you hit the menu button, you can find out what it taped, or pick new stuff to record. And you can set up wishlists with keywords or actors. The updates pull in stuff for a two week period. Of course, you have limited space to record, so you have to delete stuff, to make more room. And ya know, when I got my system -- there was a great rebate, which I still need to send in -- I made sure to get the Dual Tuner, so I can tape two shows at once..."

She suddenly seemed confused and bored by all the logistics and said "You watch WAAAAY too much TV!"

Yes, I know. And you spend your days wondering where your son is and worrying about baked spaghetti for the football meeting. To each his own, YOU VAPID WHORE.

But I felt like shit. One minute she's asking me all these questions, then next she's all "whatever" and telling me (basically) I'm a loser.

Perhaps that's the first time that anyone got into her dental hygienist small talk. Or she was pissed I didn't inquire about her baked spaghetti (ACK) recipe. ("So, that's like noodles and tomato sauce and cheese...in a pan? That you bake? How fabulous! Don't let me leave before telling you my cooked hamburger on a bun recipe!")

Finally, the dentist came over, poked around in my mouth, told her assistant I had two cavities (as if I weren't even there), smoothed down and then squished my broken crown back onto my gum with polymer, while they chatted about an earlier patient ("such a cutie!") who's majoring in marketing and economics.

I won't even discuss the disdain they exhibited when I mentioned I'd been eating a Blow-Pop when my crown broke off.

(Sugar is EVIL, and lollipops are like orally pleasuring SATAN!)

I have to go back in two weeks to get the cavities filled in. Oh joy.

And when baked spaghetti bitch mentions Grey's Anatomy, I'll shut my Satan sucking trap.

Unless I have to tell her my crown popped off again...while trying to wrap my mouth around Lucifer's love wand.

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