I recently had my wisdom teeth out.
Most people have them removed when they are young.
I am 51.
I would be lying if I said I had not been dreading the process.
I remember my kids having their wisdom teeth extracted. To suppress the pain, they functioned in a semi-drug induced state for several days.
Case in point… my oldest had her wisdom teeth pulled right before Christmas. The drugs caused her to burst out crying every time someone said “Baby Jesus.”
You can only imagine the uncomfortable scenario that ensued at our church’s nativity pageant.
Poor Joseph & Mary.
The angel’s glad tidings could not be heard over our teenage daughter’s wails.
And silent night…let’s just say, it was not so silent.
Fast forward ten years to MY Oral Surgery Event. I was terrified.
My only consolation was the drugs I knew I would get to quell the pain.
Praise Baby Jesus.
Instead…this is what happened.
My surgery went well.
TOO well.
I did not get any drugs. I didn’t even get the medicated mouthwash to kill the Evil Bacteria lurking in my empty tooth sockets.
I did, however, get Snak Pak pudding and instructions not to use a drinking straw.
Chocolate custard seemed very anticlimactic to the horror I had envisioned.
Now…I had taken a few days off from work as I knew I would need time to recover. Turns out, I had nothing to recover from.
No swelling. No pain.
Certainly no spontaneous weeping at the name of our Messiah.
So rather than waste perfectly good vacation days, I convinced my husband that we needed an Iowa Roadie adventure which required us to drive 90 minutes for a Hamburger.
And mac & cheese with Cheeto dust.
The Flying Elbow in Marshalltown was recently acclaimed for having the Best Burger in Iowa. THIS is where we needed to go.
However, as we entered the outskirts of Marshalltown, we passed by a very non-descript building with a sign bearing the name, “TC’s Pub.”
TC…These are my initials!
If only I were wearing a monogrammed sweater.
Fortunately I did not need a fashion faux pas to make me feel at home in TC’s. Our bartender Barbie & the pub patrons were some of the warmest, most welcoming bunch we had ever met.
PLUS I discovered that Barbie the bartender had magical medicinal powers.
Because I got the hiccups.
You know the kind. The hiccups that rack your entire body. And despite holding your breath, counting to ten, and drinking pickle juice…there is NOTHING that will suppress them.
Fortunately Barbie noticed my situation. She filled a glass with water, wrapped several paper towels over the top of it, and instructed me to drink. She assured me that my hiccups would vanish.
I was more than a little skeptical. However, I reluctantly took a sip of water from the cup covered in paper towels. And you know what?
POOF! My hiccups disappeared!
Instantly.
I equated Barbie to a Bartender Houdini.
Besides the hiccup magic, there was one other discovery that solidified TC’s Pub as a Place of Greatness.
Owner TC is the brother-in-law of a high school friend. In fact, said friend and I were in the same “Prom Group” my senior year.
This means that somewhere exists a cheesy prom photo from 1989 of TC’s brother-in-law (clad in a white Miami Vice tuxedo) and me with poofy ‘80s hair.
A social faux pas even worse than a monogrammed sweater.
The only downside to this Iowa Roadie adventure is that when I ordered my gin & tonic, Houdini Bartender Barbie reminded me that I could NOT DRINK IT OUT OF A STRAW.
Time to suck it up…and not suck it up.
Sweet Baby Jesus.
Comments are closed.