Who knew you could wear a hole in a crown? One of mine fell off when I was flossing over the weekend, and I carefully put it in a baggie. I called the dentist on Monday morning, and picked up an appointment later that day. I left work early and arrived at the dentist office a full half-hour or more before my appointment time. It was a cursed time to drive. If I waited much longer at work, the drive time would expand; but if I left early the drive time would contract. So, I left early and sat in the dentist office reading a Smithsonian and a Wesley Chu on my phone. When I got in to see the dentist, she tried the crown to see if it still fit — yes; then they mentioned that it was the tooth without the root canal land they’d want to start numbing it. Wot? No dab o’ glue and I’m off? A bit later after a cotton swab and a shot or two, after the crown was glued again, she drilled and filled the hole in the crown. All in all, it was not worse than being attacked by killer clowns, but less fun than just having the crown glued back on.