Saturday, July 23, 2011
Word of the day: melodramatic
I made a decision this week to ban myself from my local McDonald's. It is a very necessary ban, not stemming so much from an excessive love of their food - which I do not have - but more from an interesting episode that occurred in their drive-thru after a dental appointment I had this past Thursday.
I had to have a tooth pulled, and it was a particularly traumatic event. I will try not to go into too much detail, but the tooth had broken roots and was abscessed and despite the pain pill and four ibuprofen I took before the dental appointment and despite the 4 shots of local anesthetic I received at the dentist, the pain I felt while she was pulling it was astounding. I am not a novice in the dental area...I've had 13 root canals (two of which I had to have done twice, so does that count as 15?) and I have more crowns than natural teeth in my head. Dental work really doesn't bother me. This tooth extraction, however, made me sob hysterically like a 5-year-old who has just been paddled after getting busted peeing freely in the bathroom all over the floor and the walls and the shower curtain and just wherever else his little pee stream happened to hit (oh, did I mention that this hypothetical 5-year-old actually exists, and lives in my house? Well, he does). I literally sobbed in the dentist chair, hiccuping uncontrollably and snotting all over myself and making the strangest squeaking noises that I had never heard myself make before but couldn't stop no matter how hard I tried.
It hurt...really, really bad. Plus, the tooth broke into pieces while my dentist was pulling it and in the process of trying to get those pieces out she accidentally broke the crown on the tooth next to it. The whole ordeal was ugly.
I left her office and by the time I was almost home, I felt I had my emotions sufficiently under control enough to stop and get the milkshake and Cinnamon Melts I wanted so badly from McDonald's. I stopped at the one closest to my house and placed my order, then paid for my order, and then pulled forward to the next window only to be told that their milkshake machine was broken, and I'd have to order something else.
I lost it.
I started hiccup crying again, this time complete with bloody drool and indecipherable strings of words that were muffled and distorted because my mouth was still numb, and I had a giant cotton roll stuck in the gap where my tooth used to be. When I realized that the drive-thru girl couldn't understand me, for some reason it seemed like a good idea to yank the bloody cotton roll out of my mouth and point it at her to emphasize my words - to drive my point home - "I NEED THIS MILKSHAKE SO I CAN TAKE MY MEDICINE! I NEED MY MEDICINE! I NEED THIS MILKSHAKE!" The poor girl was so horrified that she closed the window and got her manager, who hurriedly handed me my $2.17 back and apologized for the inconvenience. The wariness in her eyes - okay, the fear in her eyes - made me realize what a complete lunatic I was being, so I apologized profusely and drove away in defeat, completely devoid of milkshake, tooth, or dignity.
And that, my friends, is why I can never go back to that McDonald's.
Posted by Carri at 11:14 PM