Soul-less Braces

Daily Prompts

Soulful Machines

Machines, appliances, and gadgets sometimes feel like they have their own personalities — from quirky cars to dignified food processors. What’s the most “human” machine you own?

I’ve always wondered what Spike Jonze’s Her is inspired by – our love for another or our love for a machine? Or are they actually the same? I think we all have a Samantha (a.k.a Scarlet Johansson’s voice) in our lives. Whether it’s an iPhone or a blender or a 40 year old Bentley, some inanimate objects are more dear to us than most human beings can ever be.

My Samantha was my braces, which passed away six years ago but are safely tucked away in my most painful memories. Gone but never forgotten. For the sake of story telling, let’s name my braces Boris. I was around 10 years old when my mother decided that my crooked yellow fangs weren’t up to standard and sent me to the orthodontic clinic a few blocks away from my house. A few weeks later, after all the lectures and teeth cleaning and x-rays and shit, I finally met my dear friend Boris, who would stick by me through thick and thin for the next two years. Boris was a bloody pain in the ass. The little bitch literally trapped food in every single part of him, in all those tiny spaces between the wires. I had to clean him very thorough after every meal or he’d throw a fit and inflame my poor gums. The monthly orthodontist visits were his favorite. He got a makeover with pretty new colors and cleaner, tighter wires. I, on the other hand, got oatmeal and Tylenol all day.

Boris always lashed out with vengeance whenever I tried to abuse him. One time I stupidly ate beef jerky right after he got a particularly painful makeover. He tightened his wires and squeezed my teeth together. Took me a good 30 seconds to stop groaning. Another time I stupidly tried to skateboard in my garage and smashed my teeth into a gardening tool. Boris got hurt and took revenge on me by sinking his broken wires in my lips, inflicting ugly purple bruises that lasted over a week. Yet despite all the shit he put me through, I did tear up a little when my orthodontist finally put him to rest. After all, his little bitch fits did transform my teeth.

R.I.P. Boris. You’ll always be the first man I’ve ever slept with.

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