二十年多前,我是一名牙科医生,在中国南方的一个小镇上手握钢钳,每天拔牙长达八个小时。在我们中国的过去,牙医是属于跑江湖一类,通常和理发的或者修鞋的为伍,在繁华的街区撑开一把油布雨伞,将钳子、锤子等器械在桌上一字排开,同时也将以往拔下的牙齿一字排开,以此招徕顾客。这样的牙医都是独自一人,不需要助手,和修鞋匠一样挑着一副担子游走四方。我是他们的继承者。我是那时候开始写作的。我在“牙齿店”干了五年,观看了数以万计的张开的嘴巴,我感到无聊至极,我倒是知道了世界上什么地方最没有风景,就是在嘴巴里。当 More than two decades ago, I was a dentist holding a steel plier in a small town in southern China and pulling my teeth for up to eight hours a day. In the past in China, dentists belonged to a group of runners and lakes, usually working as a haircut or shoe repair, propping up a tarpaulide umbrella in the bustling neighborhood, lined pliers, hammers and other instruments on the table, Remove the teeth in the past lined up, in order to attract customers. Such dentists are all alone, do not need an aide, and, like a shoemaker, lug a heavy load of walking around. I am their successor. I started writing at that time. I was in “Tooth Shop” for five years and watched tens of thousands of open mouths. I felt very boring. I actually knew where there is the most scenery in the world, just in my mouth. when