Tuesday, July 11, 2006

I'm may be Sexist, But My Dentist is Crazy!

When I was in my junior year of college at the University of Miami my mother set up a dentist appointment for me. There are some things that moms just keep doing no matter how old, or capable, or incapable you are and setting up dentist appointments happens to be one of those things for my mom. Laundary also happens to be one of those things, so I definitely scored in the mom department growing up.

We used the same dentist from the time I was two until I was twenty. The guy was as old as dirt, and I honestly have no idea why he retired because he never actually did anything. The cranky ladies in nurse scrubs would clean, x-ray, and pick-at, and after all of that was done the dentist would just come in and count my teeth and tell me to floss more often. It got to the point where when he would come into the little room, before he could talk I would just say "28 and I promise to floss every day for a year." We liked him though, because he was very nice and he didn't poke too hard.

But he did retire. Nowadays, he's probably doing charity work in Uganda teaching children to count their teeth and floss or something. So my mom had to find a new dentist. This is a big deal. Poke her too much and there is no way she is coming back. Poke her too little and she gets suspicious. Mere mortals have no chance of pleasing her in this regard. So, since we had to find a new dentist we decided "Why not try the one closest to the house?" If things do happen to work out, you get the added bonus of close proximity.

So, mom set up the appointment and I headed over to the office. The dentist was a woman. "Aren't you supposed to be in prenatal care or OB-GYN or something?" I asked innocently. O.k. I didn't ask it, but I did think it because, seriously, when is the last time you met a female dentist. It was like walking into the oval office to meet the next president only to find that it's a mexican lesbian with a swastika tattooed on her forehead. I was that surprised.

After the initial shock had worn off, I thought I had hit the jackpot. This is going to be the softest, most gentle dentist visit ever. How naive I was. Let's just say that mexican lesbians don't get to be president without playing some softball in flannel.

The visit started off nice enough. She used her feminine wiles to put me at ease (no, I don't know what 'feminine wiles' are) and she was being extraordinarily gentle. But then the very feminine force that was so comforting was twisted, manipulated, dragged into it's darkest realm by a lullaby of 50 cent's "In da Club" on her cell phone. The same force that compelled her to put me at ease and be gentle, apparently also compelled her to answer the call from her boyfriend with one hand still in my mouth! She talked to him for twenty minutes on her ear piece while I listened, watched, and was worked on in disbelief.

Why didn't I ask her to hang-up the damn phone? To this day I have no idea. Not usually one to run from conflict (understatement of the century) I just sat there and took it. And you better believe her performance suffered. I mean, I multi-task at my job. Sometimes I'll even compose an email while talking to someone on the phone, but when I do it, I don't have sharp, pointy, metal objects in someone's mouth! Just writing this is making me angry all over again.

People are so funny. Me because I just sat there, and her because, well, she's crazy.

1 comment:

S.A. said...

Posts...we need new posts!