Oh the Places You'll Go: Missing Tooth Edition

I started my flash back travel series of the places you'll go last week.

If you missed out, you're not too late to join in the fun, because you'll be all caught up after reading this post.

Anyways.

As promised I am going to flashback to some trips and just how fun they were. 

Because like I said last time, and like we all know. Every vacation has a story.

I wasn't sure where to start because thinking back on my trips there are too many stories to think of.

So I figured I would start from one of the more hilarious/embarrassing stories. 

So it's July 2006, and we're (my two high school buddies and I) are in Barcelona for a couple days.

We had just come from Nice, France and we took the long train ride to Barcelona.

The moment we arrived at the hostel we saw a sign that said 50 Euro for a ride to the Running of the Bulls, but that's for another time. 

You'd never be able to tell my right front tooth was fake right???

Anyways this seaside hostel has a great location, complimentary breakfast, and perhaps the weirdest bedroom arrangement of all time. 

The three of us (at the time just barley high school graduates) were sharing a room with three male High School teachers. If that doesn't seem a bit sketchy to you then I don't even know what to say. But none the less the six of us were roommates, and shared ONE bathroom. Yup one.

It was right in the middle of our month long Euro Adventure so we wanted to sit, beach side, and soak up the sun, and that exactly what we were doing.

I walked to the local bakery to grab something for lunch. And by something I mean a baguette salami, cheese, butter sandwich that only the Europeans can make taste like a million dollars.  I took one bit, and feel this SNAP in my mouth.

My immediate thought, "I need to fly home early, because my fake front tooth fell out." Which at the time seemed like the ONLY rational solution.


At the Gaudi building, post tooth disaster.

But after my original freak out, I gather the troops and walk down to the local pharmacy.

At this point I have my tooth gent long laying in the gum bed, in attempts to look normal. But when the women at the pharmacy asked me what wrong- her face went white when she saw me remove the tooth and smile.

Seeing as none of the three of us spoke Catalan- I figured showing her my toothless smile would be the most effective way to communicate what I needed.

She goes behind her counter and comes back with denture glue.
DENTURE GLUE.
Pink with silver sparkles denture glue.
Me, a 17 year old with denture glue, how embarrassing.

Needless to say the next two weeks, my pastry and baguette indulgence were limited.
I became a expert back chomper chewer, and refined speaking with limited frontal tongue touching.

Brushing the teeth became a process
1. Remove tooth
2. Brush teeth
3. Brush tooth
4. Glue tooth in the tooth

And the best part.
I had to sleep tooth out, in fears I would swallow it in my sleep.
I would leave my tooth in my toiletry bag and re-glue upon wake up.

Yup, if you ever want to have fun in Barcelona, just be sure you break off your front tooth.
It will complete any Euro trip.
And make EVERYONE of your travel buddies Laugh their A**** off.

Good news is the rest of the trip was a hit.
And we went straight from their to Paris, for Bastille Day, which you will read more about in a few weeks.

Smiling, denture glue and all.

Happy Thursday lovelies.
Make it count!!!