I found the oral surgeon in the Yellow Pages. There wasn’t yet a website that rated medical professionals in a Useful, Funny, or Cool way, so that was how you made important decisions: alphabetically and arbitrarily. I was 22 and I didn’t have a lot of practice making important decisions, but this much I knew.

He was ancient and unsteady, his hands a little wobbly as he snapped on his Latex gloves. But he had offered me a deal: a hundred dollars a tooth, Novocaine included. I was uninsured, a holiday retail temp, and I knew a bargain when I found one.

“I’ll tell you what,” the doctor said, peering [...]

The feminist ladies at Tiger Beatdown make note of what currently holds the title of World's Worst 911 Call. Warning: it may upset you, and perhaps you've just had a relaxing lunch.