Floss, part 2

Once again, I've managed to get a poppyseed stuck in between my teeth. This time the culprit was the bun of the double char dog that I had for lunch.

What really sucks is that food always gets caught between my teeth, and is fiendishly difficult to get out no matter how many times I lick and poke at every crevice with with my tongue, loudly smacking and sucking in my lips. It's become a huge problem, one that could turn out to be the difference-maker in my career advancement, or possible lack thereof. I can't tell you how many times at work, right after lunch, that someone's told a gut-busting funny joke, causing me to explode into a grin, causing everyone else to either frown or shield their eyes and walk away quickly. Really, I'm not sure why no one else but me seems to have this problem. And you should especially see my teeth after I've taken several bites of a corn on the cob. Nothing else is more frightening to see.

The obvious solution is to have dental floss or toothpicks readily available, but if I start carrying dental floss in my pocket, then where does it end? I don't want to evolve into one of those ultra-neurotic men who carry hand sanitizer with them wherever they go.

Anyway, today, without any dental floss or toothpicks handy, there was pretty much nothing I could do to get that ugly black dot of a poppyseed out. I was in the men's bathroom, my face inches away from the mirror, my fingernails digging into my teeth. I swished water around and spat into the sink several times. But nothing worked.

So I did what any desperate man would do. I reached into my back pocket, opened up my wallet, pulled out my debit card, and started picking at my teeth with it.

Suddenly, the president of my company walked in.