My dentist’s office is filled with Thomas Kincaid paintings and Precious Moments figurines line the shelves. There is a fake plant in the corner. Most of the magazines in the waiting room are things like Women’s Day and Consumer Reports, but I was once lucky enough to find a copy of Guns and Ammo to calm my nerves while I waited to be subjected to the medical paternalism of the dentist I have grown accustomed to.
The hygenists are fat soccer moms who ask me about football all the time even though I could give a fuck less. My dentist himself is an alright guy, I guess. He’s nice. Kind of quiet and understated. He sends me chain emails about Hillary Clinton and Glenn Beck and shit sometimes. Whatever.
I’m really glad my super attractive friend who is about to finish dental school has offered to be my new dentist. Things may start looking up for me, dentally!
Oh, and I’m terrified of the dentist, but I always have a perfect report. Go figure.