2:30

I’ve always suspected that when I take my car to the garage for a service or to have something fixed that the mechanics covertly install some kind of device that makes something else go wrong about two weeks later.
But who’d have thought that a dentist would do it too?
Shortly before going to France on holiday, I went to the dentist. It was my second visit in about eight years – I’m not a big fan of the process.
She told me I had to have a filling replaced. Said it was leaking, whatever that means.
She replaced the filling, but managed to make the new one way too big. As a result, the tooth above it started hurting in France. I went back to the dentist when we got home and she chiseled away a couple of centimeters of excess filling – and billed me for the pleasure! – but it still wasn’t enough. My teeth hurt just as much, if not more.
Back again, more filling chipped off until finally I felt like I could actually close my mouth.
But the pain’s still there today, centered in one of my wisdom teeth but spreading to pretty much the whole right side of my face, and this is just two days before I go to Paris – the world capital of eating well.
Pretty much the only thing I can swallow are handfuls of pain killers.
Garcon, could I have those snails and frogs legs pureed please? That's going to ingratiate me to Parisian restaurateurs.
I have one final trip back to the dentist tomorrow afternoon and if it’s not fixed then, it’s Nurofen on my croissant every morning.