The Extraction of #17: Here he is folks, the leader of the plaque! (Part 2 of 5) (1630 hits)
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Submitted by WiLL ZoNE (View user info) at 2006-01-21 10:52:20 EST
The Extraction of #17: Find a Pussycat & Bash in its Head (Part 1 of 5): http://www.ubersite.com/m/82324
Have I mentioned yet that I've been trying to quit smoking since the 1st of January? That's kind of an important fact to know as it relates directly to my lackluster attitude, and my hatred for all things happy and nice and cancer free.
So I head out of Doc Bloom's office and I feel pretty good. The root canal and the cost of the root canal was not a reality, and all I had to do now was to call the Oral Surgeons he recommended and get this fucker of a tooth ripped out my face. Fun.
So I get on the horn - My cell phone that is, I'm trying to bring back calling "phones" "horns, and concurrently I'm trying to call "horns" "phones." i.e. "Look at that Antelopes' phones." Give it time, it'll catch on. - So I'm on the horn and I start calling Oral Surgeons. Doc Bloom gave me two different surgeons in Brooklyn, because a Brooklyn dentist/surgeon is a lot cheaper than a Manhattan one.
So I call Surgeon Number 1. The receptionist picks up, we chat about my needs, and she tells me the earliest appointment she has is for next Thursday, a week later. I say fine, and make the appointment. I think to myself what Doc Bloom said "This tooth has to come out today or worst case tomorrow." I do the math and next Thursday is neither today nor tomorrow. So I call Surgeon Number 2.
"Hello." Lady Mc3packs-a-day picks up. "Doctors ***hack**cough***hack*** Office."
"Hi, My name is Will Zone, and I gots me a problem tooth-o numero 17-0."
"***hoch-tooey***"
"Right. I need to have this wisdom tooth extracted immediately. And by the way, don't worry about possible impaction, because its not. When's your earliest appointment?"
"If you come in right now, ***cough-cancery-cough***, I can get you done by noon."
"Really? OK, what's your address? I'm on my way."
Hacking-Cough gives me the details and I head towards the subway. I call my boss and tell him I need oral surgery and there is no way I'm coming in. He is pissed. I take a lot of time off...I hate my job and they won't fire me as I'm their best salesman. My boss tells me to come in after the surgery. I tell him I'll call him with an update of how I'm feeling.
I'm in midtown Manhattan and I get on the F train downtown towards Brooklyn. I find a map; find my stop, and then my eyes pop out of my skull. My stop, Kings Highway, is the equivalent of "East Bumblefuck, Brooklyn." I didn't know the F train could go that far. It sure did. It was a long ride. An hour and 20 minute long ride.
To give you an understanding of NYC and distances from Midtown, you have to look no further than costs per month of renting an apartment. The closer you are to Manhattan, the higher the rents are. Let's be conservative and say a 1 bedroom apartment in Midtown is $2000 a month. The cost of a 1 bedroom pad where I got off the train at Kings Highway is...well, the landlord throws you a couple hundred every month to live there.
This place is smack dab between Bensonhurst and Brighton Beach. I didn't believe Brighton Beach existed before this trip. To me it was an Atlantis-like world of twinkling-flying fairies and scary-bulbous Russians. Nope, it's a Beach community. It exists. Learn a new thing everyday.
I walk towards the Oral Surgeons office and the omnipresent omens foretelling my future were all around me. First off, there wasn't a lick of English to be read on any store façade. There were elderly men working construction, wielding sledgehammers and riding jackhammers. There were 3 year olds selling cocaine, cops fucking prostitutes on the steps of a church, and several dogs playing poker AND CHEATING! This was a bad neighborhood.
I walk down Kings Highway searching for the office. All I understood of what the receptionist said was that I was to go up the ramp. So here I am, searching Brooklyn for a ramp. Then I see it, and sadly for me, it's across an 8 lane highway, aptly labeled with graffiti on the pavement as Rte 666. There are no crossing lights, therefore no crosswalks, and not a crossing guard in site. I have to fucking cross a highway. I make the sign of the cross.
"In the name of the father, the son, and the holy shit...!"
After I Bowfinger my way thru oncoming traffic I finally arrive at the aforementioned ramp. I walk up the ramp and I follow it around the building. I come upon (not that way -- sicko) the door and immediately I feel a nervous rumble in my belly The door has fogged glass on it so you can't see inside, but as I get closer, I realize that its not fancy fogged glass, its dirt and grime...years upon years of dirt, grime and neglect. Yea Brooklyn Dentist!!!! I calm myself down; remembering that I'll be in and out of this place and my tooth pain will be gone.
So I open the door and I'm confused as to if this is an Oral Surgeons office, or a train car headed for a concentration camp. Human-forms are crammed into this tiny office like sardines in a can or, for a less dated analogy, like thirteen dildos in a drawer which only fits a dozen dildos.
"IN and OUT." I repeat to myself in my head...because if you say "In and Out." repeatedly out loud people will start to look at you funny....believe me I know.
So I mosh-pit my way to the receptionists desk which of course is situated on the opposite end of the room and I sign my name on a form and I throw up a little in my mouth when I notice there is not only blood on the sign-in form, but about seventeen names above mine which are not crossed off. So I take a seat, and by seat I mean, I prop myself between the fire extinguisher and an overweight Filipino family.
After I'm there standing for an hour, the lack of breathable oxygen in the room puts me into a hallucinatory haze in which I start to see, I mean REALLY see, everyone in the room. It's kind of a beautiful thing really. There are people of all colors, creeds, religion, and sexualities. I'm assuming the man entering my brown-eye from behind me was a homosexual...and the lady in the corner with the goatee and Scorsese eyebrows is Asexual.
Then Jesus enters the room.
"Zone...Mr. Will Zone." The words drip out of an antique-y PA system.
I kick-punch-its-all-in-the-mind my way back to the desk and they buzz me into the office.
"Hi, I called earlier; you said I can be in and out by noon."
"Oh yea."
"Yea, I need an extraction of tooth number seventeen, and by the way, don't worry, its not impacted." I love sounding professional.
"Insurance?"
"Elephant" I say back to her immediately thinking we are playing the short form improv game "Noun Bag."
"Do you have insurance?" She does fake sign language as she says this, mocking me.
"No Ma'am."
"Ok, so an extraction starts at $475. The price goes up based on how difficult the procedure is. If you want us to knock you out, its $350 for the anesthesia."
"Ok, so do I go in now?"
"Mmm-hmmm. Ha-ha" A slow building laugh oinks out of her face. "Haaa-haaa!" She looks to her friends "Haaaaa-haaarrr! ROTFL!!! Helga, Bilbo...this man wants to go in NOW!"
The entire office erupts with laughter...and then it stops on a dime, or to use a less antiquated analogy, it stops on a Sojourner Truth Dollar.
"As you can clearly see it's a very busy office, there's about a 5 hour wait. We'll call your name. Now get the fuck out of my room."
Saddened, I push my way through the throng, my tears helping to lubricate my body so I squeeze-in better.
Hour One passes. I witness two Jamaican Boys making out.
Hour Two passes. I witness an elderly man see the light and pass away.
Hour Three passes. I witness Harrison Ford dress as an Amish man.
Hour Four passes. Can I get a witness? She's some kind of wonderful.
Hour Five passes. I witness people slowly devour the old dead man.
"Zone...Mr. Will Zone."
I go back into the office and the same woman I spoke to earlier has visibly aged and developed a grey streak in her hair and her forehead is dotted with olive spots.
"Yea, there's a little bit of a problem."
"Do I have to wait any longer? It's no problem, I've already shit myself."
"Yea, well, no. You see the Doctor doesn't want to do anymore work today. He's gonna go home." OK, buh-bye. Come by tomorrow, get here before noon and it'll be in and out."
As I exit the room, the office is empty and the cockroaches come out and eat what's left of the old dead man. With every step I take I hear the sounds of closing time behind me. Windows are closed, the Windows program shuts down, blinds are shuttered, the lights fade out, doors are locked, unlocked, locked and unlocked by an OCD'd out nurse, and the huge Monkey Shines Chimp banging the cymbals in the corner goes to sleep.
I walk outside and Brooklyn is like a ghost town. It's about 3PM, but it feels like 3:15PM. The only life I see around me is a dog with three legs, who is selling crack, and the street gang The Warriors.
The only positive is that I still have that appointment for next week at that other Brooklyn oral surgeon.
I'm starving, so I walk towards a silvery diner I see in the distance on the other side of Rte 666. The road looks empty, just a few hay bales rolling down the asphalt, but every time I put my foot on the highway to cross, a huge Mac truck speeds by.
I'm sure each truck was driven by Large Marge.
Oh Uber, I want a cigarette.
Will
PS: Stay Tuned for part three, whenever I feel like writing it. In Part three we go through the nightmare of eating at a shitty diner, then taking a cab ride back to my house. It's a doozy.
User Reviews
Submitted by MyNameIsTim (user info) at 2006-01-22 08:25:26 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
i've never gone to brooklyn. and i never will.
i do drink their beer though.
Submitted by r1nce (user info) at 2006-01-22 06:39:24 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by pandora (user info) at 2006-01-22 03:44:20 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
I haven't read the other parts, I just ran across this. Funny stuff!
Submitted by Lucky13 (user info) at 2006-01-21 15:46:59 EST (#)
Ranking: -2
....hmmmm....no.
Submitted by MandaPanda (user info) at 2006-01-21 15:24:00 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
I had the same problem this early morning at 3am. No one wanted to talk to me on my pornographic post except for Rad and we all know he's chopped liver.
Hehe.
Submitted by Yes (user info) at 2006-01-21 12:55:38 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
I liked the imagery. In the third stanza, when the angel calls lucifer by his true name, did you... oh wait, um sorry, wrong post.
Uh...
Funny stuff. Yeah.
Submitted by WillZone (user info) at 2006-01-21 12:42:27 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Yes Will, I agree. Also people, myself included, are intimidated by posts in more than one part. The part 2 of 5 thingis a turnoff for uberreaders.
-Will
Submitted by WillZone (user info) at 2006-01-21 12:27:10 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
My guess is that this post is too many words for a saturday uber-morning. am i the only one at work and online?
Submitted by WillZone (user info) at 2006-01-21 11:08:13 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
This is part 2 of my attempt at a series. The story is completly true, and the embellishments are completly made up.
If you haven't read part one, click the link up top, read it, and rate it....or not.