When you go to school on top of a tiny hill surrounded by cow pastures and corn fields, sometimes you have to turn to unique ways to get your kicks. Some get really into power walking, some decide to drop acid in Mather, and those of us who enjoy the simple pleasures turn to teeth. What’s better than letting your fingertips sink into through a barrel of pearl-like fangs à la Amélie while you listen to a playlist consisting solely of “Teeth” by Lady Gaga and “Tusk” by Fleetwood Mac? Nothing! That’s as good as it gets, let me tell you. Below are some of the most reliable tooth-mining places I’ve found at Kenyon, so have at it!
- Palme House. I once spent an hours long Kettle Corn Pop Chip-fueled study session in the upstairs Anthropology classroom and therefore, I can attest that the room is completely filled to the brim with teeth. Human, animal, megalodon–whatever type of teeth you want, Palme House has it.
- The Health Center. Okay, so I personally haven’t lost any baby teeth since I was under 5 feet tall, but that doesn’t mean that everyone else has stopped losing ‘em! Sometimes I fantasize about tying a loop of string around an incisor, fastening the other end around a doorknob, and slamming the door until my tooth pops right out of my mouth and lands in my outstretched palm. Anyways, I’m just assuming that all of these lost teeth go to the Health Center for, like, health reasons, I don’t know.
- Your Advisor’s Office. Somehow everything you could ever need can be found on a shelf or in a drawer of this professor’s office: an out-of-print book for a research paper, your alternate pin for registration, and, probably, a small box of teeth for God knows what reason. Maybe they’re trinkets from a sabbatical journey or maybe they require a tooth from every advisee before graduation. I guess you’ll find out!
- The Peirce Yogurt Trough. The most likely place of them all. If you haven’t found a molar in your strawberry greek yogurt, are you really getting the most out of your meal plan?
- Pore. Yes, my days staring up at his expressionless, and mouthless, face have taught me that Pore is completely without teeth, but imagine if he had some! I’m picturing a set of glimmering pearly whites arranged in a sardonic smile and, while we’re at it, why not also give him a set of piercing eyes, the kind that seem to follow you wherever you move. I’m already envisioning the uptick in applications we’d receive when prospies catch a glimpse of our campus gargoyle!