Going to the dentist is a weird experience. Trying to brush away six months of plaque in the three minutes before your appointment… trying to figure out where to focus your eyes when he’s six inches from your face, prodding your mouth with sharp instruments of death… attempting to hold a conversation while drooling all over yourself. But the experience is made strange when you notice that on your third visit to the dentist, you’ve never seen another patient there.
My dentist advertises in the local coupon books and has a “We are now accepting new customers” sign outside his door. He’s friendly enough, telling corny jokes as he drills. But there’s something disconcerting when I’ve never seen another patient coming or going. I’m beginning to think that the pictures of the white-toothed, smiling kids on his wall might not be patients, but victims.
Posted in Everyday Life