My dad has always had a million spare parts of equipment lying around. Yesterday I wanted to copy from CD to cassette and discovered that, despite the many tools and machines, anything that could do that for me was shot. It’s frustrating when the dual cassette is missing its chord, a disc player too dusty to read, the buttons on a player being stuck, a karaoke machine’s speed dial broken, to name a few reigning annoyances. Rather than bother with the junk pile, I didn’t hesitate to run into town for a new toy.
cout << myPersonality << endl;
Mornings ache, but I struggled to arrive in the waiting room in time for a 20-minute session with some toddler’s germy blocks clanking together. Their primary colors gave me a headache. My father’s insurance plan is one of the few things desperately trying to keep me connected to society, and I mused at how human it felt to sit with these other appointments. There we were, about our teeth.
The Flint practice has had the same scraping ladies for as long as I can remember, and I always get stuck with the ruthless brute. Big, fat woman with snotty voice and sharp instruments, decorated her little station with motivational penguin posters. Every fucking round, she’s just as moody. It’s clear that someone has finally warned her about poor behavior, because she kept insisting, “And I’m not yelling at you. Some people think I yell!”
Waiting for my dentist to check on me gives ample time to eye the trailer outside their windows. A woman in a super market vest washes dishes. In an effort to block out the horrible easy listening station, I try to find the doctor with my ears.
“Am I wasting all of my money if this isn’t working?”
“It takes a while to catch up with cavities, Carolyn. But if you don’t want the procedure, I can pull the tooth. Whatever you want to do. You don’t have a whole lot of teeth left over there.”
I didn’t cause as much frustration. He says I got my first cavity, though, and “if I had teeth like yours, I’d pay to get the white filling.” Stupid clothes, frames, eye wrinkles, and my brain took a photo. Then he said my teeth were beautiful, on top of it. Appreciation must be sexy, because he started to look attractive when he smiled.
–>Insert racy sex scene here, if you so wish to improve the truth.<– Ooh, or, change my dentist to a female and write some SLASH
The man ahead of me was scheduling for next time with his hands on this big kit of special brushes and super rinse. I felt proud of my smile, never having required a hundred dollar vibrator with bristles.