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Daily Archives: February 24, 2012

Day #311: Dental Denial

The Story:

Dennis couldn’t wait for tomorrow. For over a month now, he’d been looking forward to this day, like a kid counting down the days till Christmas; Dennis had meticulously ‘Xed’ out each day on the calendar leading up to tomorrow. And now, it was almost here. It had been too long since he remembered feeling like this, for a variety of reasons (also known as his newly divorced ex-wife) he’d gone for years without it- but that was about to change, and it was going to hurt.

It’s not that he ‘liked’ pain, exactly; I mean he wasn’t one of those sick freaks you see on the Internet asking fat women to sit on them or dudes to come over and punch them in the junk, nothing that weird. Dennis just… let’s see, what’s the right word?… he ‘appreciated’ being ‘put in his place’, shall we say. To be honest, it’s not all that uncommon, for a man with Dennis’ power and wealth to, every so often, seek out ways to feel like the rest of us do on a daily basis.

All the arrangements had been made months ago, all Dennis had to do was show up and the rest would be taken care of. Pouring three fingers of his best scotch into a cut-crystal glass, Dennis made his way to his study and leaning back in his overstuffed desk chair began to imagine all the different ways he would be made miserable tomorrow as he swirled the liquor in front of him. He’d be restrained, there was no doubt about that- that was one of his favorite parts. The lighting would be harsh, glaring. The temperature inside would be almost unbearably frigid, especially in the cotton slacks and polo shirt he planned on wearing for the occasion. Things would be shoved in his mouth, he’d be exposed repeatedly to dangerous elements, sharp menacing tools would be used to poke and prod at him in ways he could only imagine… it was almost more than one man could stand.

Something along these lines, perhaps?

Wishing he could go at this very moment he was so overcome with anticipation, Dennis settled back into his chair and tried to convince himself the anticipation was part of the experience. He’d just have to make do with his imagination until tomorrow came. “I bet I hear people screaming as they lead me down the halls,” He thought to himself with barely contained relish. “Then I’ll be put in a small little room and left to wait all alone for an indefinite amount of time. Then they’ll come in and force me to lay down. They’ll talk to each other using a language I can’t understand but its sharp and guttural sound will have my skin crawling as they are most definitely discussing my imminent torture. There will be strange machines in the room, all with the sole intent to rip me to shreds,” Dennis swallowed the last of his scotch and slammed the glass on the desk in excitement, “Hot damn! I just love going to the dentist!”


The Not So Fantastic Reality:

The above story was inspired by the following tidbits I encountered today:

ONE:      Today marks a milestone in my life. Today, I went to the dentist. Yeah, yeah, I know, big whoop right? Wrong. It is indeed a ‘big whoop’. You see, I hate the dentist… no, that isn’t exactly correct. What I hate is a bit more complex- I hate disappointing people. I hate disappointing people to such an extreme that my last dental visit was over 6 years ago because they made this mistake of telling me I had the teeth of a woman 15 years my senior. This comment, along with a pretty steady barrage of being told I didn’t floss enough, I was brushing wrong or I had another cavity that needed filling, etc. traumatized me to the extent that going back in six months, a year, two years, six years seemed masochistic. I know, I have ‘issues’. Let’s not focus on the negative, shall we? Good. The point is, I went. And, surprisingly it wasn’t that bad. In fact, it was rather pleasant. Everyone was extremely nice, I was allowed to wear my Ipod during the entire process (except for X-rays) and shocker, I had no cavities! Besides a minor freak out after the tech took my blood pressure and asked if I was nervous (um, yeah I was alright until you asked me that and now I’m totally freaking out because I think I’m dying since obviously my blood pressure is not normal which means my heart is going to explode at any minute…but no, I’m like, totally fine) I’m very proud of myself and how well I kept it together.

What do you mean, "Am I nervous"? Do I look nervous?!?!?

Love & Squirrels.