Now we will extract says the oral surgeon and puts a blue linen piece over my face.“ Are you alright asks me his assistant?“ Mrghm mumble I because I am absolutely not well and have a lip as thick as Muhammad Ali after his last fight. Chrrrr-chrrrr-chrrr sounds the dental drill and I try to recite a poem and not to listen too much. But this does not help much either, because soon or better too soon the tooth crackles and the kind and patient oral surgeon surges the gods. But the gods and who knows this for sure, maybe never have had teeth or are just giggling at oral surgeon’s, their assistants and me. Chrrrr-chrrrrr-chrrrr- makes the dental drill again, again and again and more and more pieces of my tooth are buried on a silver tray, they look beaten but also proud. At least they did not went away silent they fought for their twenty- two minutes of eternal fame. The oral surgeon looks at me, at the teeth lying in front of him and sighs deeply. With his hand he wipes beads of sweat from his head and sighs again. Than he drinks a glass of water. Oh dear, he says it’s always the same with your teeth. I nod and feel very guilty and ashamed, too. The assistant writes notes down and I wipe my mouth out. Take care, dear says the oral surgeon and I nod. In the waiting room many other patients wait for their extraction to begin and I wait for a staple of forms to be signed and handed back in later. But when I slowly walk down the road of the little town, where in a large white house built in the late 19th century for a prosperous family with an old weathercock on the rooftop where now the always kind and modest oral surgeon practices, I can’t help to think of poor Thomas Buddenbrook who many years ago wandered through the streets of Lübeck, nearly mad of pain to a dentist who pulled out the tooth forcefully and soon after Tom fell down on the street and passed away. But I of course don’t but walk home shaky to fall in my bed where I think for a few more minutes of Toni, the silly goose, of the cool violinist Gerda and the sweet flower girl Anna and their almost all unlucky lifes, but then I fell asleep and when I woke up and looked into the mirror I saw a sad French bulldog, claiming it was me.