Wisdom Teeth But No Wisdom

I was having a couple of problems. Rather, one problem compounded by another.  I had two sore wisdom teeth and not enough money to get them taken care of.

A “friend” told me about a guy he knew of, who didn’t charge much for dental work. He was a retired Navy dentist. He wasn’t sure if he still had a license, or if he ever really had one, but he was supposed to do good work. I had to see somebody soon, so I took the guy’s phone number.

I called him to make an appointment and was surprised when he answered the phone himself. He said he could see me later that same day. The address was on Linden Avenue, in downtown Long Beach. “Just walk right in when you get here,” he said. I don’t remember the street address today, but the office number was 37.

I found the address; it was a third floor walk up. The number 37 was stenciled on an otherwise unmarked door, in a lonely hallway lit by a couple of bare light bulbs.

There was no receptionist or dental assistant to greet me. The small dusty waiting room contained only a single wooden chair and another door that apparently led to a back room. I didn’t sit down.

The inside door was opened by a smiling older man. With a single elegant wave of his hand, I was invited in and directed to a dental chair. After we talked for a few moments about my pain, he said he would pull my wisdom teeth for 50 dollars cash, in advance.

The whiskey and cigarettes on his breath and faded bloodstains on his clean white lab coat didn’t exactly fill me with confidence. But my throbbing teeth told me to go through with it and quickly.

He gave me some nasty tasting liquid to drink and several injections that numbed my entire head. Then he pulled all four of my wisdom teeth, one by one. When it was over, he said he couldn’t write me a prescription and gave me a handful of pills to take for pain. “If they don’t help, alcohol will give them a boost,” he said. I took two of them and walked out the door.

Because of heavy traffic, it took me quite a while to drive the 10 miles across town to my house. I drove right past my front door and went to the local bar. With my jaws throbbing and my lips and tongue still totally numb, I ordered something that sounded fairly close to Budweiser.

I tossed a couple more pills in my mouth, picked up my bottle of beer, and split my upper lip wide open trying to take a drink…