i am a comedian tonight, making myself laugh with a stream-of-segue
blossoming of hilarity that makes me want to know if anyone else thinks my
head-only comedy routines are funny, or even if they are comedy. it is an
old sequence of events, recounted on these pages at some point: i go to a
dentist after many years of no visits. i tell the dentist, “I’m having
some trouble with my teeth.” And then I add that I have not seen a dentist
in 10 years. It felt like a Catholic confession. Bless me, doctor, for I
have sinned, it has been 10 years since I had a checkup. The dentist puts
on his rubber gloves and facemask and says OK, let’s see what we got. He
looks into my mouth for 1 hot second and says “NIIIIIIICE!” All my
anxieties quelled I start to laugh. he continues with lectures on his
admiration for my jaw and teeth, saying that I have the perfect mouth, a
work of art, a dental joy. He props my mouth open and goes to the door of
the room, yelling down the hall for his assistants to come and take a
look, “Come on, come see this!” The dental assistants dutifully gather
around my gaping mouth and they ooh and aah, they listen to the dentist’s
explanation for what makes mine the perfect mouth. I think I saw one of
them swoon. So I thought I was having trouble with my teeth but evidently
I was wrong. No troubles here. This jaw is like a dog’s mouth, a perfectly
self-cleaning mechanism. (I am perfect breeding stock, ladies, I am older
than I look but financially secure and emotionally available, wink [this
is still a comedy routine]). So I get away from the dentist, laughing at
how he took one look at my gullet and said “NIIIIIIICE.” Then, a few
weeks later, I had to see a urologist — BECAUSE I WAS HAVING TROUBLE
WITH MY BALLS — and as I entered the urologist’s office I thought of how
funny it would be if I told the guy I was having some trouble with my
balls. He’d be all aloof, he’d check his clipboard, and then he’d tell me
to drop my pants. I would do so and he’d say “NIIIIIIIIIIIICE!” He’d be
all like “I see some gnarly balls in this office but these, these are
niiiiiiiice!” So he calls his assistants around, tells them “Come on,
girls, you gotta see these, these are the perfect balls!” Next thing I
know I’m standing there with 5 human beings staring at my balls,
marvelling at their perfection. So the urologist sends me to get some
tests done… some testicle tests… and here is where I am too tired to
finish the comedy routine, but the comedy seems reasonably reliable.
Balls are always funny. The visit to the testing place, where I actually
did have a sonogram performed on my balls, is a gateway to hilarity. Too
tired to tell that portion of the story in this office, at this hour…