Given that its already the end of the year and all the events that I am about to described took place in early October, I figured it was about time I brought this tale of excessive inebriation to a close.
Where we last left our hero (myself), I had just left a bouquet of flowers for the victim of my drunken tendencies when I noticed a pain in my front right incisor, another victim of my drunken tendencies. As soon as I afforded the time to do so, I looked up local dentists with my dental insurance and phoned every single practice within 2.5 miles. The desperation of my actions was directly proportionate with the intensity of my toothache.
Among all the practices I phoned, only one office offered to see me the next afternoon. Even for an emergency situation like mine, it can still be very difficult to schedule a next-day dentist appointment so I was thrilled to know that this particular practice in Manhattanville could see me anytime tomorrow at my convenience. As I learned the next day, there was a reason why making an appointment at this particular practice happened to be so easy.
I scheduled the appointment for the next one-hour block I had open in my schedule, which happened to be immediately after a job interview I had the next day. Consequently, I wound up showing up in front of that building the next afternoon dressed in full business formal attire and draped in confusion. The building appeared to be relatively vacant and buzzer didn’t seem to be working. I wound up calling the practice on my cell, at which point one of the student dentists answered and came to my assistance at the front door.
The state of the building could be explained in three succinct words: Columbia University Expansion. For those unfamiliar with recent events related to Columbia University, over the past forty years Columbia has been gradually purchasing buildings north of 120th Street in West Manhattanville in order to expand the size of the University. In recent years, this expansion plan has accelerated significantly to finally cover 17 acres. Just recently, Columbia has received the green light to begin development in the area, which will continue over the next twenty-five year. For more information on Columbia Expansion, here’s a New York Times article covering the recent decision to allow Columbia University to go ahead with its plan.
The obvious consequence of Columbia’s expansion is gentrification of West Manhattanville. Although Columbia owns 17 acres, the buildings are scattered across over 35 acres of land. Once Columbia begins constructing towers in the area (towers that will most likely be half brick and mortar, half glass, and all ugly like the most recent Columbia monstrosity, Lerner Hall) the value of the area will rise. As the general land value rises, landlords throughout the area will raise rents, potentially displacing thousands of residents and businesses.
Some landlords have even tried to get the jump on Columbia expansion, renovating their buildings and raising rents before Columbia even got approved to begin construction. Such was the situation for the particular dental practice I was visiting. The reason the building appeared to be so vacant was because the landlord had already raised rents and kicked out the majority of residents, leaving the dental practice among few survivors. The reason the buzzer was broken was because the landlord removed the old buzzer system but never replaced it, making it impossible for potential clients to get buzzed in to see the dentist. The buzzer is only one among many tactics the landlord had used to kick out the dental practice, including removing the plaque in front of the office and refusing to repair a wall in the office, which also prevented the office from getting heat.
Long story short, Columbia University was indirectly forcing my dentist to close his practice. Since he was very old (very very old) he did not have the time, energy, or money to start a new practice, but he was not yet ready to retire. My dentist relayed his entire story to me while he was examining my teeth, meaning that he ranted on Columbia University at length in extreme anger and frustration all the while he had many sharp instruments in my mouth. This did not produce a terribly comfortable situation for me, especially since I am a student at the aforementioned university.
At the end of another one of his diatribes, he asked me, “Where did you say you went to school again?”
“NYU…” I falsely answered.
“Oh yeah, that’s right.” He responded.
Relieved at having evaded yet another awkward situation, I left with instructions to contact the practice again in a week. Apparently, smashing my face into the wall may have damaged the nerve in my tooth, but there was no way to know for certain yet. The pain would eventually go away, but that may either be because the nerve has healed, which is good, or because the nerve has died, which is bad. In the event that the nerve dies, I would need a root canal to remove and fill the deceased nerve, preventing infection.
A week later my front right incisor had become slightly discolored (AND ZOMG SO UGLY!!!11! -_-; ), a telltale sign that the nerve has died. I phoned the practice as soon as I noticed to get a referral for an endodontist, but even after several attempts, I repeatedly received a message that stated the number had been disconnected. Perhaps his landlord had finally gotten to him?
Regardless, I needed to find a dentist immediately. Just as I had done before, I went through a list of local dentists under my insurance and this time I managed to contact an even closer dentist. After a much less eventful visit, I left with a referral and an appointment for an endodontist.
Never having had a root canal before in my life, I was rather frightened. However, the entire experience turned out to be incredibly unremarkable and not painful at all (though, the root canal was on one of my incisors, not a molar). The entire procedure seemed to be so unremarkable that my dentist and his assistant bantered on office gossip as they performed the operation. In the end, I left with a minor ache in my front right incisor and bag full of pain killers (Yay! Vicadin! Yay!) in case the pain got any worse.
Given urgency of my situation, I made sure to schedule the endodontist appointment to the soonest one-and-a-half hour time block I could afford. Whereas my first dentist appointment immediately followed a job interview and I came dressed in full business formal attire, this appointment immediately preceded a job interview, and again I came dressed in full business formal attire. The endodontist appointment cut things a little close – the actual procedure was actually very fast, but the wait in the waiting room was very long, so as soon as I was done, I dashed out of the office and hopped in a cab for Columbia University (in case you were confused earlier, I am a student at Columbia, not NYU) to make it to my interview.
I managed to make the interview in the time, but unfortunately, the Novocain did not. The Novocain the dentist administered for my root canal had not managed to wear off by the time I appeared for my job interview. I proceeded to carry out my entire interview tawking wike dis widout moving my wips. I attempted to explain myself, but you can only go so far for appearing inarticulate.
And that’s the whole story. Overall, from one evening of excessive inebriation, I managed to lose the trust of an unfortunate girl, the nerve inside of my front right incisor, a full-time job, and I almost lost my glasses (again).
Honestly, I need to be wary of that bottle.
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