The Dental Records crowd….

They reckon all good writers have problems with their teeth. That’s about the only positive thing I could take from the terrible pain. Then the dentist said: ‘You’ve given me a false name, are you tryin to pull somethin?’
I said: ‘No, it’s genuine, my mouth’s about to explode with some kinda toothache.’
‘That’s what I mean.’ He said. ‘Your records show you’ve no teeth at all.’
‘No teeth?’
‘No teeth.’
‘But I have teeth, why the hell do you think I’m here?!’
‘Well. Now. That’s what they’re sayin.’
‘Who’s sayin?’
‘The dental records crowd.’
The receptionist walked in and said: ‘Well, Gerry, how are you?’
‘It’s not Gerry, it’s Mick.’
‘Oh, Mick, that’s right. You lost all your teeth.’
‘I didn’t, no. Most of them are still here.’
‘Oh.’ She said, and walked out.
‘Well…’ said the dentist. ‘You better ring them. I can’t do anythin with you til it’s sorted out.’
He gave me the number and I went outside. And called. A calm woman answered and I said: ‘My records show I’ve got no teeth.’
‘Oh. Sorry to hear that.’
‘But I have teeth, there’s a mix up.’
‘That’s impossible, you have teeth but…?’
‘My records show that I don’t.’
‘What happened them?’
‘What happened what?’
‘Your teeth?’
‘Nothin, they’re fine. Well…I have a…’
‘So you HAVE teeth?’
‘And your records show you DON’T?’
‘Yeah, so can you change them?’
‘The records? Oh No.’
‘Why not?’
‘They’re dental records, they’re inviolable.’
‘But they’re wrong!’
‘That may be, but here’s not the place to deal with that.’
‘Where is?! You’re the office of dental records!’
‘I wouldn’t know.’
‘How can you not know?’
‘You should go to the hospital where you were born, and see what they have on file.’
Hung up. Went to the hospital. The woman behind the counter squinted at my mouth and asked: ‘You have no teeth? But I can see teeth, your mouth is full of teeth.’
‘Exactly. So my records are wrong.’
‘Have you rang the dental records office?’
‘And what did they tell you?’
‘To come here.’
‘I don’t know. They just said…’
‘Here, try this number.’
Went outside and tried it. A young fella answered with: ‘Yes??’
He was one of these new age pricks with a Kardashian accent. Probably hailed from the backarse of BallyMacWard, except when he was on the phone.  I said: ‘I need to change my dental records.’
‘Oh….k….? Why?’
‘They say I have no teeth.’
‘Were you in an accident?’
‘Did they just fall out?’
‘No. I still have them, my records are wrong, and the dentist can’t deal with me til it’s sorted. So if you don’t mind…’
‘Oh, you’re pretending to be someone else?’
‘No I’m not.’
‘Someone else is pretending to be you, then?’
‘Have you rang the guards?’
‘No, I haven’t rang the guards, I’m in agonizin fuckin pain and…
‘Let me tell you somethin, sir.’
And he hung up. The little bollox.

I rang back the dentist and the receptionist answered. I said: ‘Hello, I was in this afternoon, there was an issue with my dental records.’
‘Oh, LIAM, hello! How are you getting on?’
‘It’s not Liam, it’s Mick.’
‘Mick, of course. Any luck finding your teeth?’
‘No, the dental office were no good, or anyone else.’
‘Oh, you see, no one is allowed access to their own dental records except the dentist, and they can deal with it for you, they can be very strict about it, do you want me to tell the dentist to ring them for you? That might help.’
‘If you wouldn’t mind, that’d be great.’
‘Ok, Peter, it’s no problem.’
‘It’s not Peter, it’s….hello? Hello?’
But she was gone.