After a rundown of my condition and a brief look, the dentist pronounces my 2/3 tooth terminal. Nothing can be done to repair it, she explains, it will have to be crushed to dust and replaced with a fake. I consider the verdict. I remember the golden teeth on the waiting room poster. A full set of gold teeth - like Trick Daddy - would be too much, certainly. But a single golden tooth - like Dr. Teeth from the Muppets - could give me just the edge I need to take my aesthetic to the next level. A flashy souvenir from a checkered past to which I can refer in fictional nightclub conversation. Plus, I’d always have something to pawn when money gets tight… This new development is a win-win as far as I’m concerned. Where do I sign???

But, before I can express enthusiasm, my cool-headed spokeswoman steps in. She is not at all satisfied with the dentist’s fatalism and demands a second opinion. I wait. Eventually, another, older dentist comes to have a look. She stares into my mouth while the original dentist explains in short, confident outbursts, something about her original diagnosis. The second dentist seems to be of the same opinion but, lacking the first’s youthful hubris, thinks it best to consult the head dentist just in case.

I’m getting nervous now, but Xiao Mi smiles, squints (mysteriously), and rubs my arm to reassure me. 15 minutes later, the main man arrives trailed by a small entourage of underlings. I am now a vehicle for on-the-job training. He introduces himself in English and goes to work.

The ceiling’s composed of large, white acoustic tiles, cheap and flimsy looking, the type found in every office on this planet. I’m reassured by the absence of water stains. After several minutes of careful exploration, with occasional commentary for the rapt audience, the good doctor removes his hands, places down his equipment and smiles. He then speaks to me in Chinese for a good 5 minutes straight. Although he probably senses that I can’t understand a (damn) thing he’s saying, he still speaks to me directly, which is somehow deeply reassuring.

The tooth can indeed be repaired. He will do it himself, providing a little impromptu clinic for his under-experienced colleagues. I’d be good as new by the end of it all. Xiao Mi looks triumphant. But the doctor is very busy and I’ll need to come back around three. In the meantime, I need to have my mouth x-rayed.

More tomorrow. Good night.

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