What a whirlwind of a weekend/Monday and Tuesday!
Let’s start at the beginning, shall we?
In case I have yet to mention it, my fiancé Dan, is a dancer. Please spare him (and me!) the jokes about the tutus and twirling — we’ve heard them all. (:
Anyway, it is currently audition season and Dan has been spending a lot of time auditioning for dance companies across the country, so he can get one of those little things called . . . a job.
So, when we found out he would be going to New York City for an audition, I was more than happy to oblige to be his travel buddy. The Big Apple (city that never sleeps, Empire State, yada, yada, yada) is, after all, my all-time favorite city.
So, we spent Friday night driving to his cousin’s house just outside of Philadelphia, so we could sleep there and only have to drive about two hours the next morning to his audition in NYC.
We slept, we ate breakfast, we drove, we got there on time.
I walked him to the City Center, kissed him goodbye, bid him merde (it’s a dancer thing) and made my way over to Central Park.
I was going to sit for awhile in the park and just take in the atmosphere, but I decided I was a bit hungry and would get something small from the Whole Foods in Columbus Circle, which is right by the park. That way, my stomach would not be grumbling, but I would be saving room for the insane amount of cheesecake that I was planning on eating later at the Carnegie Deli. Too good to even try to put into words.
So, I got a mish-mash of things to try at the Whole Foods salad bar, and happily walked back over to Central Park, so that I could sit on a rock an enjoy the beautiful day while I was noshing.
And I am eating, and eating, and eating, and enjoying, when I notice something hard in my Five Grain Salmon Salad. No big deal, I’m in New York, everything is fantastic . . . I push it aside and get a new bite. I bite down, and CRACK.
My tooth snaps in half. I mean all the way up the center. And then, it does not even break off, it just dangles there like the loose tooth I have not experienced since grade school.
So, I call mum because she knows everything and she tells me to call my dentist, so that I can obtain the emergency number. I, unfortunately, have experienced one too many tooth problems and know exactly what he is going to tell me to do anyway. So, when he does not answer, I take charge of the situation and head off to a drugstore for some denture plaster.
By the time I buy some temporary filler for the crack in my tooth, Listerine and a tooth brush to go, I end up spending about 15 bucks at the dang store.
Now, here is the kicker. Because Dan and I are attempting to save money on this adventure, we are not even staying overnight. Instead, we had planned to drive the six hours back to Pittsburgh in order to avoid spending too much moolah.
So, I do not even have a private bathroom where I can try to temporarily fix my tooth. Therefore, I decide to go to the nearest hotel, find their public bathrooom and station myself at the sink.
I whip out my filler — all for the viewing pleasure of the group of women waiting to use the restrooms — and begin to work. I am mid-rinse in the prepatory phase of my dental work, when two little girls walk up to me.
“What are you doin’?” the one with light brown hair says to me, her neck crooked as she tries to look up and into my mouth.
I explain to her that my tooth is broken and I am trying to fix it, and she loudly announces to her mother — and the entire facility — “Mom, she broke her tooth!” and points at me.
Her mother, who is pretty much disgusted by this news, looks at me with a “What the heck is wrong with you?!” face and begins to shuttle her daughters in the opposite direction.
I am now the creepy woman from New York City who this family will talk about when they arrive home. This story about the woman with the broken tooth and denture cream will be met with sighs of, “Only in New York!”
So, after becoming the image of New York that those young children will now carry with them for quite some time — not the horses, not the roasted nuts, but the girl with the tooth — the repair kit does not even work.
I give up. Instead, when I finally see Dan after his audition, we walked over to Central Park, sat on a bench, and I leaned my head back on his lap while he shoved the plaster between the new hole in my teeth.
At that point my unsanitary and obnoxious actions had really just hit an all-time high for the day, so I figured, “Why not in the middle of a major, crazy busy, people-filled park?”
So, I spent the rest of the day nursing my injury — which by the way, did not hurt — and eating as many soft foods as I could find. Good thing cheesecake fits that description.
In between that time, Dan and I also went on a mission to track down the Trader Joe’s Wine Store because we wanted to purchase a few bottles of Two Buck Chuck, a Trader Joe’s wine that, for its cheap price of $2.99, was supposedly pretty decent. Pennsylvania stores do not allow the sale of alcohol, so we wanted to investigate a bit while we had the opportunity. We honestly walked around the general area of where the store was located for a good 45 minutes. We could not find it, and asking for help is, of course, just not an option. We were so desperate to buy cheap, good wine, you would have thought we have severe drinking problems. It was really quite pathetic.
We finally gave in to asking for a bit of help, walked another eight LONG blocks to get there and got our stupid wine. We haven’t tried it yet, but it better be really effing good.
So, here I am today.
I finally got my tooth fixed — which, by the way, did not hurt because I had already had a root canal on it — and am sitting at home. The cheescake it gone and my mouth is a bit sore. I am not in the mood for food right now.
There are, however, five bottles of Two Buck Chuck sitting on my counter.
Hmmm. Crazy tooth lady from NYC might just have to enjoy a glass . . .
Dan buying me my favorite roasted nuts the last time we visited NYC. They, unfortunately, did not fall into the soft foods category. ):