I have no idea what the dentist is doing.
I just sit back and shut up.
I know she’s doing something.
Please god, let this be painless.
It’s my mantra.
I look at the light bulb in the ceiling and try to avoid the interrogation light bulb of the dentist chair.
I arrived sweaty and smelly. Dr. Augusta raised her concern. It didn’t offend. Her English is lousy. And so is my Indonesian.
But she knew, that inside my carry bag, was a wallet, with cash, to pay for two fillings she was doing today.
My tracksuit pants aren’t that crusty. I have a leash on them in case they go walkabouts.
My black T-Shirt was drenched in a fat man’s marathon of sitting in a non-airconditioned room downloading porn.
I wasn’t going to tell her that.She knew it already.
The fat sweating part.
We are learning to get on with each other.
She hands me the mirror.
Fuck, my teeth are looking like teeth without fucking nasty eyesore cavities.
She’s making progress.
Keep it up, I say.
A day dream:
As she peered into my mouth, I could tell she was thinking of her sadistic husband. Then a smile crossed her face as she knew the cops would never find his body…then she said ‘you remind me of my husband” and began drilling, deeply.
Snap out of it for god’s sake. And I’m also a big fan of Zisi Emporium for B Movies.
I’m in again today. I’ve pushed the schedule ahead.
I’m running out of time dear, I said, that visa don’t wait for anyone and I’ve only got a few days. I’ve got ten but wasn’t going to tell her that. I just wanted to jump the queue and get my fucking teeth fixed up.
There’s a little bump on my tooth. It’s ‘besar, or big. I want to make it a little less big.
You are big.
I’m fucking big, I’m a fucking hippopotamus, but you haven’t seen the Ten-Tonne Tessies of the desert. They are so fucking big that they make double doors so they can get in an out of their houses. And they have forklifts, just for getting around inside the house.
That was all lost on them.
See you tomorrow, I said.
That dentist in Malaysia was in some ways very sloppy.
I’m always blaming someone, aren’t I?
Such is life, but I’m smiling.
I smile a big mother fucker smile to all the dental staff and Dr.Augusta. She’s doing well, and I’m impressed with the progress.
The pain has long gone, so have the heart palpitations. The dodgy teeth and infections were leaking into the bloodstream and poisoning me.
It pays to keep on top of cavities.
I’m glad my money is being spent here in Indonesia than Australia.
I just don’t see the point of going to an Australian dentist that employs an Indian on a bridging visa, when I can go to Indonesia and get it done by an Indonesian and for one-tenth the price.
Australian dentists, you have failed me. It was only codeine tablets that saved me. Even they are outlawed now in the land of milk and honey.
Man, you gotta wise up otherwise they’ll rob you dry.
Now all I need to do is get rid of that cholesterol bottling up in my neck and I’ll be a new man.
Now where the fuck is Ariff?
I thought I saw him sitting in the lobby on the way up to the third-floor coffee shop.
I’ve even downloaded some new porn for him.
The question is, do I really need his entertainment?
Of course I do.
But I’m going to blow him off today.
It’s a bad image having a walking garbage bin consuming everything in sight. I saw him sneak up to the cafe last night. He’s into some dodgy dealings, that’s for sure.
My back needs a rest, and who knows, it might even feel better.
I’ll let the cock sucker beg for mercy. He’s been a fucking slack ass lately.
Now’s the time to cut him off, where it hurts most, his fucking wallet.
‘But I’ve got four kids to feed.’
The oldest fucking trick in the book which works most times.
I’m a smoker and need money. That line rarely works.
Get your fucking balls sacks cut out or something, I really wanted to tell Arif. ‘Fewer kids to feed means more money in your pocket.’
Instead of saying that, I’ll let him stew.
Yesterday he earned 100 0000, Rupiah. It usually takes most Indonesians two solid days of hard work to earn that kind of dough. It took Ariff 20 minutes. And the hardest part of the massage was applying the whitening cream on my back and neck. It was a big red smackeroo. One of the hotel staff gave me the conversions, though I knew it already. No wonder Ariff kept on repeating that I was a good man.
Ariff says he’s stupid. Then what does that make me?
Now I know why whores spread their legs, the financial benefits far outway the degradation of pimping yourself out. I’ve not met a whore who hasn’t had a wet slippery cunt, though.
Ariff isn’t into a dialogue. His hands are so big, he could snap my neck before you could say Jack Robinson, so I better keep up the pretense we are the best of fucking mates.
Just watching him in the foyer, looking sad and forlorn, I could see through it this time. He’s up there with the best.
You wanna learn about con men, come to Indonesia, they have taken the art to another level.
There was talk among friends that Ariff was ISIS.
I’ll be extra nice to him. I might even flash him a smile with my new spanking fucking white teeth.
It could be the best porn he’s watched in days.