I went to Jason's party because I had nothing better to do, realizing I wouldn't know anybody and would probably end up standing alone in his backyard nursing a beer, wishing I was playing videogames instead. House parties in Portland are almost always terrible but I figured being bored and annoyed while surrounded by people was better than being bored and annoyed while sitting on my couch in the dark.
In a pleasant turn of events I found myself engaged in conversation with a girl named Eve. I'm sure it's obvious how the conversation started.
"Oh, your name is Adam? My name is Eve!"
"What a hilarious coincidence! Let's talk about lots of things now."
At some point I made her laugh, though I don't recall the joke. What I do remember is that she guffawed suddenly and loudly, and it caused her tooth to shoot out of her mouth. I'll explain this further in a moment, but for now let me repeat what I just said, because it deserves to be emphasized. She laughed hard enough to propel her tooth out of her skull.
She seemed unfazed and bent over to pick up her tooth. Noticing my alarm, she explained to me that the tooth had actually popped out last year, and rather than get it replaced with a fake one, she'd simply inserted it back into place. "It's always sort of wobbly now," she explained, "but it stays put most of the time. It's fun to be able to remove it whenever I want."
She blew the dirt off her tooth and nonchalantly mashed it back into its gumhole.
I asked Eve how she'd lost the tooth, and she recounted how she'd taken a basketball to the face in the park. The tooth had been loose prior to the accident, so she wasn't altogether surprised when it flew out of her mouth.
I was skeptical as to how a basketball could travel with enough force to knock out somebody's tooth, but I decided not to grill her about it. I'm no stranger to getting smacked in the face with balls myself (shut up, you know what I mean). As a teenager I wore glasses exclusively, and once during gym class I was struck in the face with a dodgeball. The impact was severe enough to break my glasses into three separate pieces.
Eve and I talked for about a half hour after that, my eyes constantly darting to her one loose tooth, knowing it could launch itself free of her body at any time without warning. Eventually she and I parted ways when we each noticed other people we knew. I didn't see her again for a couple hours.
A little before 1 AM she appeared again, visibly sloshed. She stumbled up to me, holding her tooth up to my face.
And with that, she disappeared into the house, entrusting me with her tiny bit of precious enamel. I suppose it was responsible of her in a way, like giving your car keys to a designated driver. Picking your tooth out of a pile of vomit can't be a pleasant experience.
An hour passed with no sign of Eve. The party began to clear out and I was itching to leave myself. I scanned the backyard, then did a quick patrol of the house looking for her, but she was nowhere to be found. I meandered through the dwindling crowd of stragglers, asking if any of them knew Eve's whereabouts.
Eve had clearly left the party without her tooth. I asked Jason, the party's host, if I could leave the tooth with him in case the girl came back to claim it.
"You may absolutely not leave that nasty thing in my house," Jason said. "Take it with you."
I didn't know what to do. It was not my responsibility to look after a drunk girl's lost tooth. I considered my options. Should I take it with me and post a listing on Craigslist the next day? There's no M4TF (Male For Toothless Female) listing. I couldn't embark on some Cinderella-style quest to find her, looking for a mouth to fit the tooth. That would most certainly result in failure.
Left with no alternative, I opted to pocket the tooth and head home. I had to trust that if Eve needed her tooth, she'd find me. The tooth sat on my book case for several days, and I started to become unnerved by it. Nobody at the party had known who Eve was, and I began to suspect that maybe she never existed at all. Perhaps she was a demon succubus whose sole purpose was to plant a cursed tooth on some unsuspecting male. Maybe the tooth was some sort of cursed totem with the power to summon great monstrosities from the abyss.
Currently, the tooth still rests on my book case, abandoned and possibly harnessing sinister energy. I still don't know what I should to do with it, so in closing, I offer this final plea:
I have your tooth. If you happen to read this, please let me know, because I'd rather not have bits of your skull lingering around my apartment. If I haven't heard from you in a couple weeks, that tooth is fair game, and I'm getting it plated in silver and strung from a chain. If it turns out to have mystical powers, I'm selling that shit on eBay.