I’m just back from a trip to the dentist, and I can feel my face again. Here’s a piece from two years ago on why I love my teeth-keepers.
Do you know why I don’t mind going to the dentist? For the free toothbrush? Yes, that too. Because the cute receptionist always flirts with me? I’d rather not say. I don’t mind going to the dentist because you get to take time off work, lie down in the middle of the day, be surrounded by professionals who want to make you feel and look better, and no one is ever, ever going to break it to you that you have six weeks to live. You just can’t get that kind of guarantee when you visit the doctor.
Yes, there are the needles and the drilling and the whimpering, but the dentist’s office is generally quite mellow, what with the piped in music and the employees chattering away, never once betraying any dismay that their life’s work involves being knuckle deep…
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