2005-11-21
el mariachi
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I sat in the dentist's chair, my gums tingling after the doctor attacked me with icepick-type tools. I closed my eyes and heard a mariachi band warbling in my head. I slid out and stumbled into the waiting room. There they stood--wearing mushroom-shaped hats with lots of spangles, tight wool pants, and shiny black shoes.
Too bad the doctor hadn't given me any pills. If I didn't need them before, I needed them now. I listened to them belt out a series of Tex-Mex tunes (including la cucaracha) for the girl at the front desk (I guess it was her birthday). She blushed when they handed her a yellow rose. I didn't know you could order a mariachi band, Miami's version of a singing telegram. I think I prefer flowers.
f-i-n at 12:29 p.m.