Mommy made arrangements for me to get two back upper teeth pulled at what I thought was a dental office. Then she left. I waited for a while, then a big guy came out with an apron on and told me he would be with me as soon as he finished coloring someone’s hair. I looked around and realized I was in a hair salon. The guy handed me a jar of anesthetic ointment and told me to apply it myself. Then he showed me the outside door that he would be tying a string to, to yank my teeth out. I was outraged and afraid, and didn’t know what to do, so I started putting the ointment on. I could feel it working, which somewhat reassured me.
By the time I got outside for the “procedure,” a crowd of friends (past and present) and acquaintances had gathered to watch and show their support. Erik hugged me. A random guy from Shra’s year in our high school slobbered all over me and jumped on me, and when I told him this was only appropriate behavior for a dog, he and his sister both looked at me in deep offense.
When I told the salon guy how I had misgivings about this, he told me, “It really shouldn’t be so bad. My dad used to pull all our teeth like this, and we never had any anesthetic ointment.” I thought about this, and tried to wiggle my teeth with my tongue, but they wouldn’t wiggle and it occurred to me that yanking out loose baby teeth is a quite different matter than removing adult back molars.
Fortunately, I woke up before the guy pulled my teeth. I don’t even know how he was planning to get a string around my back-most teeth.