M. Giant's
Throwing stuff at the internet to see what sticks

Wednesday, May 08, 2002  

In case you missed yesterday’s entry and are too lazy to scroll down to it, I’m in the midst of a filibuster about the ongoing renovation project in my mouth. And I’m not talking about an effort to quit saying “dude,” because that’ll never happen.

A couple of weeks after my teeth-cleaning-from-Hell, I went back to the dentist to find out just how bad the situation in my mouth was. Turns out I needed some work done. Specifically, root canal. More specifically, twenty-three of them.

Technically, I could stop right here because, as I've since learned, if anything in the world is funnier than someone else getting a root canal, it’s someone else getting twenty-three root canals.

After I get this outstanding piece of news, they bring me into this tiny office to schedule my first few appointments. The woman at the desk in there tells my guide that they're training next door, so my case will be a good demo for the trainees. So I have to go to that office instead.

I go in there, and there's a person driving a desk and three other people on chairs watching her. So they sit and watch her enter my data, no doubt imagining that the inside of my mouth looks like a bombing range. I wish I could give them a nasty, rotten, mossy, Harry-Connick-in-Copycat smile, but my teeth actually look fine until you start waving a dental mirror around in there. Which makes me regret coming back here in the first place. This is why my original plan was to just wait another few years so I could get the bastards yanked out and replaced with a row of staple pullers. I think I mentioned that yesterday, though.

Anyway, I just decide to start pretending the trainees aren't there. I tell myself, probably inaccurately, that they're just as uncomfortable with the situation as I am. The appointment lady finishes setting me up, and then goes away to pull something off the printer, leaving me alone with the trainees.

So, now what? Am I supposed to have a conversation with these people? What kind of openings do you use for that kind of situation?

"So...have you always wanted to make appointments for people?"

"Should I be worried that there are more appointment-makers than dentists in this office?"

"Did you know toothless guys give the best oral?"

Instead I just pretended that I was was concentrating really, really hard on getting my dental insurance card back into its little slot in my wallet until the appointment lady got back with my printout. I'm sure I looked much cooler that way.

Eventually the appointment lady came back and scheduled me for a couple of appointments in early December. I didn’t make it to either of them, because early December ended up being a tumultuous period in my life during which I was briefly and successively a fugitive from justice, the toast of Broadway, a mid-level functionary at the Japanese consulate in Qatar, and, most memorably, a lesbian. I’ll tell you all about that stuff tomorrow.

Okay, not really, but I wanted to go out with a cliffhanger.

posted by M. Giant 4:33 PM 0 comments


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