I went to the dental hygienist today to have my first real cleaning after getting my braces removed.
About a year and a half ago, I got braces. Too bad I wasn’t writing in this blog about the singular joys of being an adult single man with braces. I would have called it the “Do I have something in my teeth?” blog. The subhead would say something inspiring, like, you’re never too old to improve yourself. Or If you refuse to date people with braces, you’re a bracist.
I thought there would be lots of bracists out there. But I was totally wrong. Maybe it is because I didn’t give a flying F, but I got laid the day after I got my braces on. A few months later, I “got with” a woman I had been trying to “get with” for a very, very long time.
And, oh yes, others. It was as though my luck with women actually improved when I got those imposing metal strips in my mouth (no outside hardware, thank goodness).
Not that these ladies had brace fetishes (that I know of). What do you call a brace fetishist? A bracist, again?
Wait. Would a “bracist” seek out braces-wearers, or avoid them?
I’m completely sidetracked now. But you can probably see the lesson of the day a mile away, what with my fear of rejection being completely removed (because I expected 100% rejection due to the braces), my success rate in these interpersonal relationships skyrocketed. So, obviously….
The lesson of the day is “Hygienist” is a bitch to spell properly.