TALES OF AN ORANGEPEELER
an archive of pleasures, wounds, sublimations
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06.01.04, tuesday afternoon
Cranky and unemployed, I had no other choice today but to glare at the class president of the dental school as he--married, Mormon, an avid scuba diver--performed a root canal on lucky tooth #14. Somewhere in the partitioned operating room that doubled as a spacious refrigerator for haplessly dentated souls, drills growled and blue-bibbed patients squeaked. A pony-tailed woman clicked by, humming "Pomp and Circumstance."