By Beauty Damned

The Chair

I took the day off work today to go to the dentist first thing in the morning and sit in the chair for four hours while he removed old crowns, took multiple impressions and put in temporaries. The temporary crowns are made of acrylic and I have to say, I don't like them much. But the beautiful new ceramic ones will be in place next week.

My dentist is a funny guy and also an incredible dentist. But...he's...dundundun...a Republican!!! Screeeeeeeeeech. Okay you know me right? I have to be able to voice my opinion when I so desire. Imagine me being strapped to a dentists chair breathing obscene levels of nitric oxide and suddenly being confronted with someone's conservative views on the Iraq war and the impending election. It's all fine if I could cognitively form a fucking thought or even speak! In the beginning it was a good little debate during which he tried to convince me that John Kerry is a criminal and that you can't reason with those desert people (the only way to communicate with them is with bombs) and that the 9/11 commission is a sham. I put up a good fight. The technician was nodding in agreement with me. My dentist was getting a little flustered and threatening to make my teeth purple.

Then, BAM, the nitric really hit me. I started dancing in the abstract recesses of my mindspace. I started thinking things were really funny. He started really going to work on my teeth. But he continued spouting off. When he took his hands out of my mouth for a moment I blubbered something about being subjected to his political views while being rendered incapable of a response was worse torture than all the drilling, tooth shaving and acrylic impressions in all the world.

He changed the subject for awhile and went off about how he loves being able to look out the window at the bank across the street while he works and seeing all those happy people coming out and how there are three types of dog owners, the type that are hovering right behind their dog as it shits and they scoop it up like a pro, the old lady who stands far away from the dog and pretends it's not shitting, but can't stop peaking out of the corner of her eye, and the jerkoff who lets it shit right in the middle of the sidewalk and keeps walking. All of this made me laugh and forget about politics. Then he wandered off in his train of thought, saying "what do I want to do this weekend? If it's sunny, I want to play tennis. If it's rainy, I don't want to do anything....yeah. If it's rainy I definitely don't want to do anything..." And the image of him in a pristine tennis outfit reminded me that he's a fucking pansy ass republican!

When I finally left the office he said "see you next time and we can duke it out some more over politics." I glared at him and told him I was going to verbally bitchslap him when that time came. I walked the few blocks back to my house in a post-drug haze and fell straight to sleep in my warm happy bed. But all I could dream of was being in the chair and all the responses I would have had to all the things he said, had I not been incapacitated in such a manner.

Dentists are cruel. In every imaginable way...

Posted by Maria at April 15, 2004 06:14 PM