Palihouse Santa Monica, CA
Jenson hadn’t been to the barber-surgeon, and it had been over three weeks since the pain started. His tooth was throbbing with a feeling that can only be described as angry waves akin to the beating in his veins after a loss at cricket. He knew he needed to see Martha McCobb.
Martha was the town mystic, and despite his gentlemanly upbringing and proximity to every modern amenity of medicine, Jenson was terrified of the barber-surgeon… not for his skill with teeth, but entirely for his skill in cutting and styling hair. The barber debaucle of 1783 still haunts his heart, as does the consequential loss in hand of Mabel Fareweather, his one true love. Never would Jenson set foot in the chair of a barber-surgeon again.
Martha was retrieving the toe of a frog from her apothecary cabinet when Jenson entered the front door of her cabin. She knew he would be arriving promptly between 2:30 and 2:32am, as stated so regaly in his post which had arrived earlier that day. The request was simple and urgent:
MS. MCCOBB - I HAVE INJURED MY TOOTH AND HAVE NO RECOURSE BEYOND YOUR IMMEDIATE CARE AND HEALING. I SHALL ARRIVE UNDER DARKNESS BETWEEN THE HOURS OF 2:30 AND 2:32AM AS RECOMMENDED BY MY ASTROLOGIST. YOUR TIMELY AND PROMPT HEALING IS GREATLY APPRECIATED, ALONGSIDE YOUR DISCRETION. SINCERELY - MR. JENSON PLETHERHORN, III.