This One Has Teeth

I'm at the point in this mustache growing gig where I'm hesitant to leave the house for fear of having to make visual contact with others while having this THING on my face.

I’m even embarrassed to look you in the eyes.

However, venture forth I must. Today it was the dentist’s office for my semi-annual cleaning.

Whereas strangers I encounter who see this caterpillar orgy going on around my lips have no clue I don’t normally look like I’m auditioning for the part of Otto in a remake of A Fish Called Wanda …

… it’s a different story with my dental hygienist.

I see her only once every six months for maybe 20 minutes at a shot, but it’s possibly the most intimate relationship in my life outside of my marriage.

Think about: Would your partner ever floss you? Would you trust him or her to poke around your soft tissue  with a sharp metal object? No. Besides, it’s hard not to feel a certain bond with someone when you have little choice but to stare up into her pale blue eyes while she stares down at the tarter build-up on your No. 17 occlusal surface.

So no sooner does she sees me standing in the waiting room yesterday and it’s all “so what’s, uh, going on, uh with that” and lots of index finger circles around her mouth.

I lay out my tale and she’s at least amused if not confused. Trying to explain the connection between growing a mustache on one’s face and the health of one’s prostate (well, you know where that is) has that effect.

Then it’s sexy time. Scrap, floss and polish. The ol’ rinse and spit. Mmm, give me that good oral hygiene, one mo’ time.

When we finish, she calls in my dentist of nearly 20 years for a final review of my choppers. And my facial growth.

“Everything looks perfect, as usual,” she says. “Except for that mustache he brought in with him.”

I ran through the whole Movember scenario with him and well, let me sum it this way:

I left the dentist’s office today with three sample tubes of Sensodyne toothpaste for a finicky filling and $100 to support men’s health issues.

I also left with the knowledge that if I ever need to hire my own PR person, she’s going to wear powder blue scrubs, latex gloves and scent of Cool Mint Listerine very well.

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Now it’s your turn. Donate now to help my mustache in this Movember fight against prostate cancer and other issues threatening men’s health.

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