I have new health insurance I’m pretty sure the same as rice paddy workers have, though I think they have better coverage. I lost Bluecross back in March not making enough income to keep it. That said…
I went to my first dental appointment on my new plan.
I should have known something was up when he returned my call at midnight with harem music in the background.
When I asked the doorman if the doctor was in, he said…every day…he’s in every day.
When I got there, the door was half open to an empty waiting room.
All I wanted was a cleaning, used to Dr. Levine’s nice pristine office with the pictures of smiling teeth on the walls.
This office resembled a bunker with a dirty fish tank.
A door suddenly swung open making me jump three feet producing the oddest looking man I’ve ever seen…Lurch like in height with a turnout that made him eligible for New York City Ballet. He seemed to have extra teeth that put mine on edge. Mementoes from previous patients perhaps? I thought of running to the ladies room to count mine.
He handed me a form to fill out before disappearing down a corridor.
I didn’t feel too comfortable, a telltale sign to maybe leave? But then a pretty little Mexican woman came in so I said, “Does he make you wait long?” “Well,” she said, “it depends what he’s going to do to you.”
I sat for a second, my heart pounding deciding to just tiptoe out.
“Where are you going?” he said, appearing at the elevator.
“Oh, I need to be someplace,” I lied, “and can’t wait anymore.”
“But I’m ready…can take you right now,” his teeth gleaming like a tyrannosausus rex.
Ever so reluctantly I went back into the office wondering if I’d ever come out again.
“I just want a cleaning,” I said, knowing I’d never let him do anything that required more than a toothpick, the idea of him with a drill sending chills down my quivering gums.
“Sure, lets get crackin,” he said, taking a hand towel that was a bit gray tossing it across my neck suggesting hygiene was off on Saturdays.
He then started flossing me like a shark.
“Um, excuse me, but is this normally how you begin?”
“Yes…I will scrape then polish.”
And did he scrape. I so wanted to ask where he studied dentistry. Iran maybe? Guantanamo Bay? Because he did look a bit like a terrorist.
“Do you have a pilot’s license by any chance?”
“Yes, I do.”
If that lady wasn’t in reception, I would have bolted like a deer.
He kept saying, “You have such beautiful crowns. I have never seen such beautiful crowns.”
Did his lab coat spring another tier or was I imagining things?
After he polished my teeth like hubcaps, I jumped from the chair.
“Thank you,” I said, backing up towards the door.
“My pleasure, see you in six months,” he said with a wink, his coat looking as if it was waving from a flagpole.
My teeth, I decided, just might be an area I need to spring for taking the stairs two at a time, my molars sighing in relief.