The Dentist has such sights to show you

Went to the dentist for the first time in 7 years.

At one point during the last decade I was near-broke and living in my car. Flossing was the last fucking thing on my mind, though I’ve brushed my teeth twice a day every day for decades and had no problems or pain.

During my recent visit I was prepared to tell anyone wearing a smock, should they scold me for not flossing, to fuck off. This stems from a childhood dental experience where the bitch assistant asked if I flossed. When I replied in the affirmative she said, with deadly tone, “I don’t like liars.”

Fucking cunt.

I don’t hate the dentist like it is claimed most people do. I broke my two front teeth in a bike accident when I was 12, so I’m plenty familiar with dental work. My sole superpower is having no nerves in my two front teeth, which enables me to fearlessly bite into ice cream.

I fear nothing at the dentist’s office but the hair-thin needle they use to inject Novocain in the roof of the mouth, the irony being the worst pain of all is done in the name of numbing the area.

After I established my insurance status with the broads up front (one had a faint mustache) a fat-assed, professionally pleasant blonde led me to the back.

“So, did you eat any candy for Halloween?”

Jesus Christ, am I that unfuckable? Did she see me reading Highlights magazine in the waiting room? (“Goofus doesn’t use his napkin. Gallant slits the throats of squealers for the drug cartels”).

“Aren’t you guys and candy natural enemies?”

The blonde, who looked like a giant blueberry in her dark scrubs, did not laugh but took 15 x-rays. I don’t why the little cards used as a backdrop for firing the x-ray machine have razor-sharp edges, but after all these years they’ve never improved them. Whenever I bit down my eyes watered and I gagged. I’d make a lousy cock-sucking faggot.

The blueberry blonde finished doing her thing and left me waiting in the chair. When she returned with the x-rays I quickly sat up.

“The chairs are uncomfortable, aren’t they?”

“No chair is comfortable with a drill attached to it.”

The dentist was bald and had a strong handshake. His last name sounded like Zabzubab. I liked that, figuring anyone enduring endless roll calls in school with a last name beginning with Z was better at waiting patiently and thus could learn more.

Zabzubab briefly poked around with the tools…wherever the needle-like hook poked my swollen gums pain roared LOUDLY like a stack of stadium amps but with excruciating precision…I enjoyed it. Nothing like the dentist to make you understand the paradox of Pinhead from the Hellraiser flicks. (Who are dentists anyway? “Demons to some. Angels to others”).

Overall the Doc was pleased with my teeth, though of course I have a shitload of plaque…and three “small” cavities. The thing I don’t get about cavities is, the evil bacteria or whatever eats these holes, but they fill them up with an amalgam that the bacteria can’t destroy. Seems like you’d want some starter cavities in order to be made into a better cyborg.

I visit Dr. Zabzubab in a month for the official cleaning and fillings. I asked the girls at the front desk if my new fillings would be cream or chocolate. Mustache-girl quickly answered, “Chocolate!” while the cuter girl just grinned. I have no chance with either.

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