A stick of gum. Extra, Winterfresh brand. The silver, metallic wrapper comes off so easily with a single flick of the thumb. Once unsheathed, that stick of gum makes impact with a curled, awaiting tongue. This gymnast bends over backwards, folding over in half, head to toe, before the initial chew breaks its form entirely. The flat rectangle, which was so rigid and solid a few seconds ago, now becomes malleable in the warmth and wetness of this mouth. Slowly, it dissipates the lingering, thick taste of coffee and the fainter scents of garlic and chicken, leaving a fresh, sweet aroma in its wake, a lover that eradicates all memories of those who came before it. This stick of gum has uncovered one of the mouth’s many secrets- an orthodontic artifact, a metal bar behind the four bottom front teeth, the only remnant of three long years in braces. The gum discovers the smooth flesh that once concealed wisdom teeth, but now has nothing to hide. The gum sees corners and crevasses of the mouth that even the most diligent of kissers may never have access to. Clenched between molars, impaled atop incisors, flattened gently against the mouth’s arched roof by a powerful, flexing tongue...this contortionist bends to the will of reckless jaws, gleefully meeting each and every challenge of mastication.
But as far as inanimate objects go, this gum is a single serving friend. Fleeting. Interchangeable. Disposable. Dentyne, Wrigley’s, Eclipse. Cinnamon, Wintergreen, Spearmint. Occasionally the flavor and brand name are switched up for the sake of variety, or selected by the influence of a particularly engaging advertisement, but really, this mouth does not discriminate. Despite the fact that this piece of gum has just had a seemingly intimate relationship, dancing between the folds of a warm, pink mouth, the real truth is this- give it an hour, maybe longer, maybe less, and soon that gum loses its original flair and becomes a chewy rubber ball bereft of all its sweetening power. Gradually, the jaw slows its rhythmic pumping, disgruntled by the gum’s ailing elasticity. The one night stand of relationships, this gum soon meets its end after performing its appointed duty. Discretely disposed of between the soft folds of a paper napkin; surreptitiously placed on the underside of a church pew; flippantly spit like a watermelon seed into the bowels of an open trash can; casually tossed on the ground, where it may soon become a nuisance on the bottom of some innocent pedestrian’s red four inch platform shoes, later to meet its death by the dull edge of a scraping, raking knife blade, accompanied by disgusted shrieks of, “Ewww! Ewww! Get off of my shoe!” Each stick sits calmly in its pack, dreaming of a time when it may fulfill its potential, a caterpillar oblivious to the fact that its life span as a butterfly is nothing but an ephemeral existence, soon to become an unsavory specimen, rudely ejected by an ungrateful orifice.
Posts
