So here’s the thing, folks. I hate going to the Dentist.
Jon Stewart is not the only one that is not a fan of these annual check-ups. I don’t complain a lot in life, but I will complain when it comes to a few select things, including getting my car serviced, when people fall through on plans, other people who complain too much, calling credit card companies, and going to the Dentist. I mean to the point that when I had to reschedule my appointment Monday (my regular appointment was scheduled for July 14 and I don’t intend to fly back from India just to go to the dentist) I griped about it until I caught my mom on the phone with the dentist rescheduling my sister’s and asked her to do mine as well. Probably kind of childish, but oh well.
Another thing that kind of bums me out about the Dentist is that I’ve been going to the same Dentist for years, starting back when I was an awkward, shy high schooler and had no interest in talking to people I only saw every six months. Now that I’m a little more extroverted, I make more attempts at conversation with the Dental Hygienist, but we’re already at the point where they know me as the awkward, shy person, leaving us stuck in this weird Beetlejuice type middle ground staring at each other from isolated doorways with those bizarre bright colored creatures moving between us.
As she was cleaning my teeth, poking and prodding with those weird silver tools, I began to have an almost existentialist breakdown in thought. Do they clean the tools after each visit or use completely different tools for each visit? If it’s the latter, than the office must be bursting with dentist tools waiting to be used. Does she enjoy sticking her fingers in people’s mouths all day and telling patients in a nonchalant, yet annoying way, that it’s really important to floss?
And then they bring out the scary toothbrush—the small, metal, round one that makes the horrible noise and applies the horrible toothpaste on one’s teeth. I swear to God, that thing has got to be one of the worst inventions ever. I’m sure it really belongs in an antique set of torture tools.
Each time I have to make another visit to the Dentist, I drag my feet more and more. And each time, I wonder more and more if the Dentists dread visits just as much as I , and other patients do. But I guess all the same, it’s just the cycle of things. And who knows, you might end up with a Dentist that plays the guitar for you, just like Jennifer Anniston did.