For years now, I have been toothing it up with a small dentist office near my home. Yesterday I reported for my usual cleaning. ('Cuz I like em shiny) I patron this particular office because it's a 2 minute commute and I like to take small trips. The point however is that I keep going there despite the fact that I suspect the hygenist cleaning my teeth is mildly retarded.
My suspicions are based upon several things and only reinforced with each visit. In between my 6 month visits I seem to forget the odd behavior but each time I leave, I'm always thinking to myself... "Yes, that woman is most definitely retarded." It's not that she doesn't perform her job well or competently, if retarded people can bag grocerys or run cash registers (Thank You Publix), I suppose some of their smarter ones can clean teeth. It's really more about the bizarre conversation that ensues during each visit.
Sometimes she inexplicably introduces herself multiple times as if she just teleported where we are standing and sent her body double to their next mission. On my second visit, I had to shake her hand at the reception door, once as we walked down the hall and then again after I was sitting back in the chair preparing to drift off into the light. Yesterday, she gave me a lesson on how to tell time. You see, her last patient's appointment ran 5 mintues late, so that is why she didn't call me back right away but "her clock is 15 minutes fast anyway so it's not as late as I think."
Other times, it's that glossy look in her close-eyed face that says she's in the middle of crossing her thinking bridge and part of the span has been washed out. But my favorite to date had to be yesterday when we were all finished and I mentioned that I had to reschedule my prior appointment due to the untimely kidnapping of my dog. From there we discussed pets and eventually her 20 year old Cat. I have a 17 year old kittie crashing at my pad and so we had a nice exchange and then I went to settle up my tab. A couple of minutes later, my hygenist was tapping me on my shoulder and the next thing I knew she was showing me a photo of a cat. "Oh how pretty" was my response until I noticed this photo was from a magazine with words being attached to body parts by arrows and page number in the lower right corner. "Oh it's not my real Cat, just the same type- she has round paws too".
It's not the entertainment that keeps me going back. You see, she massages my gums. After the cleaning is over, she takes her fingers and literally massages the gums. It's a really nice feeling after being scraped, buffed and polished. She might be a little slow but my goodness she knows how to put on a show.
Comments