Not a Euphemism
I broke a tooth last night: my right top wisdom. They came in years ago, but I never had them out for various reasons, mainly because they came in straight and weren’t pushing the real teeth out of their sockets. And because I simply didn’t take very good care of myself. I’ve since become a more conscientious eater, but I’m still a bit of a slacker when it comes to flossing. Which may be because it’s harder to floss when your wisdom teeth have slightly jammed all the others closer together. I don’t recall how hard it was to floss before the wisdom teeth because I was a slacker then as well. Anyway, I was eating an apple: an Envy variety. Wisdom teeth are dead, but you can still feel them break. At first you might think it’s a seed or shell, then you realize there’s no way you ate a seed or shell and you know it was your tooth, believe it or not. I definitely believed it, but I can imagine someone experiencing a moment or two of disbelief in this situation. I feel I handled the rupture fairly well. I pretty much knew this was coming, and have known for some time, and then it happened: last night, while eating a designer apple, my maxillary fourth molar broke in half. One half is in the dumpster where I work, then other still inhabits my mouth. I bought some new mouthwash, because it’s time to step up my game. I went ahead and got the alcohol-free stuff designed for old people, because given my track record, I figure I’m probably working with the dental equivalent of a fifty-to-sixty-year-old person.
The point is: not every guy you see buying a big bottle of blue mouthwash at 9:30 pm is an alcoholic.