A Fairy Tale

“You’ll be wearing a Tooth Fairy costume and handing out leaflets at Sainsbury’s,” Stuart, my Practice Manager and marketing maestro announced. He looked a little anxious about pimping his girlfriend - sending me out on the streets, scantily clad, to promote Gentle Dental Harrow.

The kind, cuddly Tooth Fairy, known for exchanging money for baby teeth, was my professional alter ego. Stuart, at six foot two inches in height and over fifteen stone in weight, had been known to scare small children visiting Gentle Dental on nursery school excursions. I think of him as a gentle giant, but he did not qualify to dress up in Tooth Fairy tutu and tights.

“When?” I asked.

“Today,” Stuart said.

I looked over at my work experience student. In university interview practice I emphasized the importance of physical projection in selling oneself. “Teeth, tits, tush,” I signaled as shorthand for smiling and standing tall and proud. Now it was my turn.

I wriggled into my turquoise lycra and netting costume, adjusted my padded breasts (artificial), my padded behind (natural) and my Tooth Fairy wings (totally natural, of course).

“You look gorgeous,” Stuart encouraged, despite his misgivings.

He took photos. He handed me our remaining ‘Two for One’ Smile Care Visit promotional leaflets. He helped me adjust my wings.

Outside Sainsbury’s, my work experience student and I distributed leaflets to willing shoppers, extolling the virtues of Gentle Dental Harrow to anyone who would listen. It was the morning shift, with elders arriving by taxi to do their weekly shop and mothers with preschool children in pushchairs.

However striking or inappropriate my costume, in fact, because of my striking and inappropriate costume, I was a hit with children in pushchairs. Kids found me clever, likeable, funny and charming. I chatted with their parents and shared tiny teeth tooth brushing tips. I smiled and flirted. Time flew.

Half an hour into our marketing initiative, a store employee came up to us.

“I’m going to have to ask you to leave,” she said.

“Why?” I asked.

“This is Sainsbury’s. You’re not allowed to do this here,” she said.

“Are you the manager?” I asked.

“No” she said.

“I’d like to speak to the manager,” I said.

“He’s in a meeting,” she said.

“I’ll wait,” I said.

We continued to hand out leaflets.

“We’re probably not on store property or land out here. I’d like clarity before I move on,” I said.

My work experience student looked nervous.

An elderly woman approached us.

“You’re asking to get raped in an outfit like that,” she said.

I didn’t hand her a leaflet. I glanced at my young colleague who was handing leaflets to more courteous and curious bystanders.

“We’re almost out of leaflets,” I said.

My work experience student looked relieved.

Three fit builders invited me into the back of their white van. I declined their thoughtful offer. I had work to do.

I carried on handing out leaflets.

Two uniformed male police officers approached. My heart sank. Had the elderly woman made a complaint? Had the store employee called in the big boys?

“What’s going on here?” the shaven headed officer asked.

“We’re promoting our dental practice, Gentle Dental,” I said.

“Nice name,” the officer with the cropped red hair said.

“We have a special interest in people who are terrified of the dentist,” I said.

“I’m sure we’d all come and see you if you’re dressed like that,” the first officer said.

“I can’t dress like this at work for health and safety reasons. My Tooth Fairy wings get in the way,” I said.

“That’s a shame,” the first officer said.

“Our sergeant could do with you,” the second officer said.

“He’s complaining of toothache and he hates the dentist,” the first officer agreed.

“I’d love to see him,” I said, handing them a leaflet.

We returned to work, triumphant and exhausted.

“That was great,” my student said.

“I’m never doing that again,” I said.

“You both did brilliantly,” Stuart said.

The next day we heard from the suffering sergeant at our local police station. We saw him the same morning and safely and lovingly restored him to health and serenity.

Our work experience student, unscathed by her adventures with the Gentle Dental Tooth Fairy, went on to study dentistry at Guy’s Hospital.

Stuart posted photos of me in my Tooth Fairy costume, teeth, tits, tush and all, on the Internet. My initial embarrassment has long since given way to gratitude, affection and pride.