Ever since I lost half of my left front tooth in a basketball brawl in elementary school, I’ve had sensitive teeth. Unlike sensitive hearing which allows its possessor the ability to hear damsels in distress miles away, sensitive teeth just hurt like hell. In February, here in Kentucky the weather can be quite chilly. So chilly, in fact, I can’t open my mouth while I’m outside. Exposing my teeth to the cold hurts more than the tiny fist that hit my face and chipped my tooth away. Smiling in the cold wind hurts more that the hours my dentist spent filing my tooth to a point so she could incase it in gluey bonding. But worse than the pain, and the awkward pursed mouth I make when walking outside, is the isolation I experience when ordering drinks. My fragile teeth just can’t handle ice. And no matter how taken back servers are at my order or how huffy a fast food cashier acts when I fill up my cup with only soda, my teeth still hurt. I can’t help it. My dentist hasn’t been able to fix it. I just wish I could drink my iceless soda through a straw in public without so many questioning stares.
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