How bout a Beer?
If there is anything more annoying than going to the dentist, I’d like to try it. I find things that annoy me, strengthen me. They allow me to exercise my mental restraint muscles and limber up my “happy to be here” face when I know I am not. It’s the same facial muscles one uses when the 7th day Adventist catch you at home, especially when they catch you roaming free in the yard.
What I am not referring to is, root canals or tooth extractions that you know are going to put you in a position of not only looking silly but sounding silly. You know, the dead side of the mouth that prevents you from that whistling or drinking. I am not sure why I get the urge to whistle when I know I can’t, it could be that I just like to feel stupid sometimes, intentionally that is.
Or, perhaps it’s the drugs that don’t wear off until long after you’ve left the dentist office that ignite the social butterfly in you when it is clearly a time you should keep your lips tightly closed. “Heeeeeey Booooooooooob” (hey Bob, slurred), “you’re duh best furend a feller cud eeever hab”, (you are the best friend a fellow could ever have, slurred). Bob doesn’t know how to respond to such a blatant disregard for every man code ever written so he simply records your ridiculous antics so he can show the boys down at the pub later. We will all have a good laugh later…not.
When I was just a small child and I had any heavy-duty dentist stuff infused into my day, someone would always treat me with a nice thick chocolate milk shake and a straw. In retrospect, this was not done as a treat for being a brave little boy, it was done as entertainment for my friends and family, so I was happy to carry this amusing tradition on to my children. Some might say it is a form of abuse but I say it is good clean wholesome fun. If you can’t remember what it feels like to try and wrap your dead lips around a plastic straw without accidentally jamming the straw in your eye then you have clearly missed out and you clearly have very few teeth left.
Just to make a serious point, I HAVE warned Bob to stop using his one good tooth as a bottle opener but he won’t listen. He says it’s a great conversation starter when he’s with unfamiliar company and it is his one sure fire parlor trick that brings the house down every time. I can’t argue with the logic.
What I refer to is the routine cleaning appointments. Everyone always act like they are happy to see you and from the desk clerk all the way to the “come violate me chair” you have to engage in lots of small talk or chit chat. As you know, chit chat is not my specialty, I have no parlor tricks or ice breakers as I generally prefer to remain silent and let Bob do all the heavy lifting. Since Bob is not a regular at the dentist office, I am all alone and it gets worse.
“Hey Randy, how have you been, whatcha been up to buddy?” The desk clerk usually isn’t so bad because you know it’s coming, you know walking in that door that you better be ready with some golden chit chat nuggets, so I usually rehearse in the car for a few minutes before entering. “oh, not much really, I had an ingrown toenail removed last week which is why I am limping a little today and I received notice of an audit from the IRS, how bout you Betty?” At this point Betty is already pecking away at the keyboard as she logs me into the system and is really not paying attention to my skillfully crafted chit chat or she would have asked to see my toenail. I think next time I will tell her about my scorching case of hemorrhoids and see if that gets her attention. Not sure what I will do if she asks to see that. I better rethink that one.
Sometimes Betty gets a day off and it is someone that doesn’t know me. When that happens it totally throughs me off. I have to toss out the rehearsal and go with improv, I am not good with improv, there is no telling what will come out of my mouth, especially when she fires off an Ivy league question like… “do you have an appointment to see the doctor”. My first initial thoughts of appropriate responses to such profoundly visible intelligence aren’t very good, “uh, no mam, I was just wondering if any of ya’ll would like to go fishin today, you see, Bob is out sick and I’ve gone and misplaced my bottle opener.” Once my lips have smothered what my brain would like to expel, I regroup and say “yes I do”. Oh, it gets worse.
On this particular encounter, I can feel myself getting edgy because I already know that Ivy League is going to drain the last few ounces of social grace that I have left for the day. “What’s your name sir?” Now, I see that as a perfectly fair question and easy enough to answer, but considering that this is a small office, my appointment is at 8am, the office opens at 8am and I am the only person besides her in the office, it’s a question that deserves an appropriate response but again, I suppress my desired response of “Buck Naked mam!” and instead give her the required response, “Randy”. Oh, it gets worse.
I know what you are thinking, the chit chat between me and Ivy should be about over, but it’s not. Her next response comes in question form… “Green?” Once again, I am forced to look around the room at what could be an optical illusion and unbeknownst to me, I am standing in a herd of other Randy’s and we all need to be tagged in the ear like cattle. I’m sure Ivy is a nice enough gal so I relax my firmly clinched butt cheeks and simply reply “yes mam”.
I am not sure about the HIPPA privacy stuff anymore because all that has been obliterated by the pandemic but I don’t think the dentist office every really gave two hoots about it otherwise they wouldn’t have everyone getting worked on out in the open. Anyone can come by and chit chat, especially the person doing the work, all while you in a very vulnerable position. I mean seriously, a stranger has a couple of fingers and some power equipment in your mouth and there is never a mirror on the ceiling so you can verify just exactly what is being put into your mouth, especially before they tell you to swallow. Prison riots have broken out over less.