One night in my 20s, I was enjoying my time in a refined (ha!) establishment that served liquid refreshments in long-neck amber bottles for a good price. As I started to partake of what was in my bottle and as it almost reached my lips, a dude walked up behind me, bumped into my elbow holding my drink, pushed my arm up toward my lips faster than I expected, and with that movement, the long-neck bottle hit my front right tooth and made a chip.
I looked down at the beverage on my shirt and skirt and then ran my tongue along the bottom of that front right tooth and felt a concave shape in my normally straight-edged tooth. Oh! What happened? What did it look like? How big was it? I had to get home!
When I arrived home and looked in my bathroom mirror, I saw the problem. I was in trouble. There was a half moon space at the bottom edge of my tooth. Not terribly big, but noticeable.
I decided to take matters in my own hands.
I pulled out my angel nail file and started filing down that tooth. I was already anesthetized, so I wasn’t worried about pain (yet) but soon realized I better stop. I did enough filing to whittle away the cranny and make it look straight again, even if my right tooth was/is a little shorter than my left.
YOU can hardly tell, but I know.