San Diego tooth fiasco
Jen and I just got back from a short, quick vacation to San Diego. We saw tigers, dik diks (miniature deer), three varieties of white rhino, fed dolphins, bat rays and sea lions and ate embarassing amounts of expensive, rich food. We stayed in the Old Town section of San Diego because I remember really enjoying the architecture and sense of history that permeates the place during previous visits. What I didn't recollect was the "frat boy" element or the Margarita Factory on every other corner. We did stay in a nice, fairly affordable hotel, the Best Western Hacienda. It was on a hill overlooking the city and I appreciated that it was slightly "removed" from the whole spring break scene. The first night we got there we wandered through the Old Town state Park which consisted of a pedestrian walkway winding through the so-called "birthplace of California" and several adobe buildings that date back to the early 1800's. It was comforting to know that several thousand Natives died so that we could purchase delicious homemade salt water taffy from the sweets shop.
At the sweets shop we bought the aforementioned salt water taffy and Jen bought some dark chocolate covered honeycomb which would soon become my arch nemesis. We walked back to our hotel and dug into the candy. The first bite of honeycomb produced a pop sound and it seemed as if a piece of honeycomb was stuck to the back of one of my front teeth (the chipped one that was filled in with fake enamel several years ago). I didn't think much of it and tried to pry the piece of honeycomb from the back of my tooth with my tongue. It wouldn't budge. It was then that I realized that what I was feeling wasn't feeling a piece of candy, but a gaping hole. A huge chunk of the fake enamel must have popped off when I bit down on the honeycomb. It was such a weird sensation. My left front tooth now only consisted of a tooth facade with a vast section of emptiness behind it. I decided not to do anything about it, since it wasn't that obvious and it didn't really affect my ability to chew my food. It did, however, lead to me imagine all the objects I could store in my tooth hole without anyone having the slightest idea, like a dik dik or a rare byzantine coin. It made me feel very powerful.
At the sweets shop we bought the aforementioned salt water taffy and Jen bought some dark chocolate covered honeycomb which would soon become my arch nemesis. We walked back to our hotel and dug into the candy. The first bite of honeycomb produced a pop sound and it seemed as if a piece of honeycomb was stuck to the back of one of my front teeth (the chipped one that was filled in with fake enamel several years ago). I didn't think much of it and tried to pry the piece of honeycomb from the back of my tooth with my tongue. It wouldn't budge. It was then that I realized that what I was feeling wasn't feeling a piece of candy, but a gaping hole. A huge chunk of the fake enamel must have popped off when I bit down on the honeycomb. It was such a weird sensation. My left front tooth now only consisted of a tooth facade with a vast section of emptiness behind it. I decided not to do anything about it, since it wasn't that obvious and it didn't really affect my ability to chew my food. It did, however, lead to me imagine all the objects I could store in my tooth hole without anyone having the slightest idea, like a dik dik or a rare byzantine coin. It made me feel very powerful.