I’m at the dentist.
Not just any dentist, but a brand new one offered on my nifty new Dental Plan.
After traveling to what feels like Chicago, I come upon a storefront right out of Mayberry
(or Tombstone), with a huge grinning face that says…
SMILE AMERICA I walk in thinking, oh, maybe it’s a Day Care Center and the office is upstairs.
It’s the dentist’s office alright, with a bunch of unsupervised children running around having had a tad too much sugar.
I know I’ll probably have to wait, so settling down with my book, realizing reading is not going to happen, not when I suddenly have a wee lad of 3 on my lap.
Manuel with curly hair and big brown eyes, is so happy to see me with a wet diaper that makes a charming imprint on my freshly donned khakis.
Me, being me says, “Well sir, that’s a fine how do ya do.”
He giggles, handing me the banana he had with him.
A willowy Latina with beautiful black hair, all of 7, comes out to see what her baby brother is up to. Apparently while their mother is in the chair, she’s supposed to be babysitting.
I smile, suggesting a Pamper change.
She rolls her eyes taking him off my lap, something he’s not too happy about.
It’s always the guys who want you even though they’re unavailable.
Before opening my book again, I notice across the aisle, a plump black girl I assume is at least 12, staring at me while holding a phone blasting music.
I sigh thinking, hearing loss sometimes comes in handy,
She jumps up and starts frantically dancing.
Her hot pink dress barely covering her curves, is swirling and twirling like there’s no tomorrow.
Her enthusiasm is fine.
The part that throws me is her gyrating like a fat, frisky snake…winking, thrusting. I’m waiting for a pole to drop from the ceiling for her to climb on.
Both receptionists shake their heads but do nothing. Two weary women clearly feeling they don’t get paid enough for child rearing.
After 20 minutes I suggest to Shalisha, perhaps she should sit down and rest.
“How old are you,” I ask, trying to keep her in her chair.
I almost fall off mine. She’s huge, clearly in need of attention, same as me at that age, plucking my heart strings like a banjo.
She then digs into an enormous bag pulling out chips her chubby tummy surely doesn’t need, when who comes crashing into the room like a bull at Pamplona, but mom, the size of a shopping center.
Without acknowledging her daughter who’s been on her own for over an hour, grabs the bag of Lays and the phone screaming,
“What did ah’ tell ya?”
Just then Manuel is back to show me his complimentary toothbrush, determined to teach me how to use it.
As Shalisha is about to leave, I say, “You’re a wonderful dancer Shalisha, and thanks so much for dancing for me.”
Her sad face lights up as if she’s just swallowed a 40 watt bulb, throwing her arms around me, giving me the biggest hug.
“Miss Bianca, are you alright?”
“That’s Bianchi, and yes, but I could use a little Kleenex.
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