Wednesday, 15 May 2002 | Paper clip

I discovered why that cop wished me luck. It's because the ticket he gave me has turned into a giant hassle, one that will require me to take a day off work and drive to the capital of nowhere (obeying the speed limit, of course) and plead guilty to "faulty equipment" before the judge. According to a lawyer in that area, that's how things work. It's a strange concept to me, that the judge would assume that my speedometer works perfectly fine (and it does), but that we would both pretend for a moment that it didn't, and then s/he would slam down a gavel and proclaim that I am free from the insurance burden that would otherwise haunt me for years. Then I would write a check, climb back into my car in my uncomfortable clothing, and it would be over.

Naturally, my court date is the same week as my visit to the dentist, which will also require a vacation day.

Did you know that getting an appointment with a new dentist takes six months? Right, if I want to get my teeth cleaned in this town I won't be able to do it until November. Both receptionists I spoke with acted as if that were completely normal. Okay, so I'll put you down for 10 a.m. on November 28th. Does that work for you?

So instead I'm going back to my childhood dentist in the town where I haven't lived since I was 12, which is only a slightly longer drive (2 hours) than the one I'll have to make for my court appearance. Actually, that's the only dentist I've ever been to, mainly because I rarely ever go. My last visit was in January 1998, and the one before that, 1993. I don't need any work done, but it's probably a good idea to check in at least as often as I do.

The reason I go so seldom is that I've never had a cavity or wisdom teeth pulled or braces or anything but teeth cleanings. The most abnormal thing about my teeth is that I have at least one baby tooth that was never kicked out, as I was missing the permanent tooth that would've come behind it. (All of the above is also true for my brother.)

Of course I didn't appreciate any of that when I was younger. In fifth grade I actually wore a bent paper clip in my mouth because I was so desperate to wear a retainer. It tasted like (surprise!) metal and rattled around in front of my teeth, only a mildly convincing testament to my faux-jumbled mouth. I can't tell you why I did that, because I don't know. I think it has something to do with wanting experience.