Going White in the Age of Trump

I don’t know what got into me, but the other day at the dentist, I agreed to have my teeth whitened.

Maybe it was the dingy color — a recent birthday — or the fact that I haven’t ever had my teeth professionally whitened. And as all things done spontaneously — I instantly regretted it.


For people with big smiles and large mouths, tooth whitening really makes sense. After all, everyone can see their teeth. But for someone like me, who has a small mouth and rarely smiles, what’s the point?

Now for Jeff, well, he has teeth the size of Chiclets. When he smiles, which he does a lot, the entire world lights up. I can always tell how our relationship is going based on how often I get to see those teeth. Sometimes, it’s not often enough.


They promised me it wouldn’t hurt.

Oh sure, they said some people have sensitivity afterward. But I thought they meant — when you eat. I hadn’t realized my teeth would be twinging and zinging — aching — with sudden shooting pain as if I needed a root canal.

And I hadn’t expected it to last all day.

Lucky I Guess

So I’m one of those people with extreme sensitivity. Heck. I am a sensitive kind of guy.

I certainly didn’t mind reclining for an hour as my mind ticked through all my real and imagined problems. It was nice to close my eyes in the middle of the day. And then I remembered reading somewhere that when you look at someone’s teeth — you’ve just peeked at their corpse.

Hmm. Now that’s something to think about.

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