Ready for My Close-Up, Sans One Molar

All that remains is a glue-covered little nub with some residual filling in it.
Do you think I need to start shaving? I never realized how hairy my face is...

Mr. W and I were at his movie's pre-wrap wrap party last Friday night when we struck up a conversation with the assistant director and the next thing I knew, Mr. W was securing a job for me as an extra in one of the movie's non-star-studded scenes.

I was kind of terrified.

Up until this point, the only acting I've done was in my third-grade play, a short film a friend made in art school, and of course the faux reactions I mustered for The Bachelor: Women Tell All in 2012. I have never been an extra and had no idea what was in store for me. All I knew was that I'd be pretending to eat dinner in a restaurant with a bunch of other people, and that we'd be shooting from 11 p.m. to 1 a.m. Good times...

I picked out a sundress to wear and spent the day spritzing my face with Evian and eating only arugula to prepare for my big performance.

Okay, fine, I actually spent the day sweating around town and lounging in the room with Mr. W, and when we went for a late afternoon candy run, tragedy struck.

I was happily chomping on a handful of Skittles when all of the sudden, something hard hit my tongue. (That's what she said. Sorry, couldn't resist.) I reached in my mouth and pulled out one of my crowns.

These things should come with a warning label...

Mr. W was completely calm and shared a story about how once he cracked a tooth on a piece of cheese. But I was horrified. What was going to happen to my little unprotected tooth stub? Would I be able to get a dentist appointment right away when I was back on the mainland? And most importantly, what if the camera angled itself just right and you could see my backcountry set of chompers in the movie?

Mr. W spritzed me in the face with Evian to calm me down.

Just kidding.

In truth, I finished my bag of Skittles and stuck my crown in my jewelry box. I sort of feel like 007—like I could smuggle some microfilm between my nub and my now removable crown. And thankfully, I don't think my Hollywood debut was negatively impacted.

I will say, however, that the experience of being an extra was a trip. You have to talk without making sound and pretend like you're eating when actually you're not. I felt like a little girl playing house with a stranger I met at the park. It was bizarre. And now I'm more worried that you'll see me bite the air half an inch in front of the sushi I'm holding rather than see my toothless maw.

Although with my luck, you won't even see me on-screen at all... I'll let you know where to look for me if I don't end up on the editing room floor.