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special friends in and around the mouth

2004-04-30 - we got nothing but time

Angie, one of the girls I work with, just got a retainer in her mouth, one on the top and one on the bottom. She's 33. It's like an 87 year old ordering an ice cream cone with rainbow sprinkles. Dedra, the born-again Christian wiseass who has her own office, only because no one could handle working with her, gave her a hard time today.

"Yeah, good morning everybody. What's up Angie....Angie! Your face all messed up! What happened? Did Frank beat you?"

"Itsch a retainer Dee Dee."

"I'll get him for doin' that to you girl."

"Itsch a ret -"

" - Damn! You look banged UP. I ain't coming near that! Can you convert some of these pennies to dollars? I got PMS, I need a burrito."

"Schlorry, I'm not giving you anysching now, you made fun of me."

"How about 50 cent then."

"I schaid no. Schlorry. No!"

"Look. If you expect me to talk to you, you have to talk right. (looks in her mouth) Girl, you got wires and whatnot in there! That's bootleg!"

"Would you get out pleasche?

"Sorry to hear about your mouth."

"I waschn't complaining."

"Well I'm still sorry. I'm going to get some food. "

"I'm hungry too Dee dee."

"Alone."

"Hey. I can schtill eat, Dedra. Theshe things can pop out quick."

"Don't you ever do that in front of me."

Angie was pretty bootleg, what with her bionic mouth. Even the V.P. of the company was making fun of poor Angie. He was telling me how his daughter was about to get her braces off, and she was 10, so what was Angie's excuse? I never told her this, but secretly I used to want a retainer. That and a cold sore on my mouth, because one of my brothers used to get one and I liked the way it looked, like spaghetti sauce looks dripping down your face before you reach for a napkin. I didn't know it hurt, I just know I hadn't yet been socially conditioned to think it wasn't as glamorous as it appeared. A reappearing tattoo. A special friend.

I watched Angie put her special friend in her mouth. I watched her take it out. Wrap it in a napkin. Talk with it. Laugh with it. Readjust it. Drink schoda with it. Complain about it. Bond with it. Leave for home with it. The strange thing - her teeth are perfectly straight. I don't know the cosmic equation for this placebo but I intend to watch her carefully over the next few months for signs of change.

Last night I went to an art opening which right off the bat, I noticed had no snacks. Just tiny bottles of beer and a little D.J. who looked bored with this profession already. The show was sort of an array of carved wooden sneakers, thrown over telephone lines in different major cities, then snapshots taken of them, against a gritty backdrop of graffiti and I forgot what else, I was busy pretending the people there weren't as artificially inseminated as they looked. It was as if 100 people took painstaking measures to get ready, get wardrobed, get to the place, and then didn't know what the next step was. If you've ever seen those Diesel ads where the models look bored, scared and amused all at once, all while posing, you still won't be able to grasp this hideous scene. I'm sure they were nice. I'm glad I brought an apple for snackie time, as I no longer drink beer.

Anyway, I didn't get the show, if that was the goal. It was held in a sneaker store, at Fred Segal, which made enough sense. Sneaker shows go with sneakers. I just thought maybe I'd feel something other than someone's hair gel brushing against my shoulder.

Moving on, in my salad today, I picked out all the lemon grass and chives. On one of the blades of grass, glad I looked, was a little bug that I'm sure I've seen in a cartoon. He was clinging to the blade of lemongrass for dear life, and I guess he died that way. He was so cute, thank God, or I'd be sick. Talk about a special friend. I threw him out and wished I had a magnifying glass to see him better or someone around to validate that he was, in fact, adorable in that pose.

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