Tuesday, July 19, 2005
I go to a big dental practice in Princeton, and the last couple of times they have assigned me a hygienist who uses her picks like meat tenderizers. During the "hack the gums" phase of the cleaning, my mouth looks like the outtakes from a George Romero movie. The best part, as always, is the discussion about whether I floss. This time I decided to deploy a one-two punch of sarcasm and extreme candor:
Hygienist: "So. Do you floss much?"
Me: "Does it look like I floss much?"
Hygienist: "No. Why don't you floss?"
Me: "Because I hate it."
If I'm still blogging years from now when I need the jaw reconstruction and the dentures, I'm sure you'll hear about it.
I went to the dentist for my cleaning today, too. In fact, the last time you posted that you went to the dentist, I had been there on the same day, so we are definitely on the same schedule. Since I didn't see anyone there either time who resembled you, I assume your dentist is not on Harrison St.
I got off easy because it was my hygienist's birthday today and she was in a good mood.