11 April 2003
28
R. Linda:
I don't know how it is with your dentist, but the one I found for meself here in Boston, was a trip. I had trouble finding the place because it is in an old landmark building between tall buildings. I looked for the address and found a penny candy shop at the address I had on the card. I thought this was Chloe's idea of a sick joke, since she is the one that recommended the dentist.
Frustrated, I went into the candy shop and the smell of confections hitting me almost to the drooling point, near got the best of me. Getting meself under control, and with much hesitation of sounding like a damn fool, I asked the shop girl if she knew where Dr. Daven's office was located. She smiled ruefully and pointed to the ceiling, "His office is upstairs. You take the stairwell by the front door and go straight up."
Feeling the total eejit, I thanked her and retraced me steps. Yes, there it was, one of those old fashioned signs with a huge tooth on it and a pair of pliers next to it. It said, Dr. Daven, D.D.S, located upstairs. I have to tell you that pair of pliers did nothing to quell me nervous apprehension, but up I went.
The office was just off the landing and it was sparkly clean, homey and inviting. It had a lot of antique memorabilia here and there and I was quite intrigued. I went to the glass window where a pretty young thing sat smiling at me in welcome. She slid the glass open and I said, "I'm Gabriel O'Sullivan, I have a 4 o'clock appointment with Dr. Daven."
"Oh yes, Mr. O'Sullivan, would you fill this form out and when you return it, please give me your insurance card if you have one."
Was more a statement than a question on her part, and I smiled back and took the form. I filled it out and got me proper insurance group card out and handed it over a few minutes later. I sat back down and saw the usual magazines, TIME, News Day, US Today, etc., and being I work for a newspaper, was disinclined to read the competition's material. So I looked around and was just sitting there when an older woman came out of the door to me left. Her leaving was a signal I might be next, and sure enough a nurse came out with a folder and asked me if I was "Mr. O'Sullivan?"
I answered in the affirmative, all very polite, and hauled meself out of the chair to follow her inside. The place was just lovely, all done in Victorian motif and I was quite liking it. The nurse went through the pleasantries with me, and as soon as she heard me accent, she is all smiles like I was the President of the United States or something. She asked me all sorts of questions about me homeland, and what was I doing in the U.S., with me answering as best I could, all the while feeling a wee bit nervous at the drill that is almost in me face, as I take me seat in the dentist's chair.
She hooked one of those paper and plastic backed bibs around me neck, still chattering on about how one day she wants to visit Ireland and here is me, looking up at a Find Waldo poster on the ceiling over me head. She patted me shoulder and told me the doctor would be right in. So, I be staring up at the poster trying to find that freaking Waldo when I hear this twittering outside the room and whispers of, "Did you see the new patient? He's Irish and you know what they say about Irishmen." Well begorrah me, someone tell ME what they say about Irishmen, because in fact, I don't know what they say and damn it I want to hear what it is.
I was momentarily distracted from the ridiculous Waldo and straining me ears to hear what else they were whispering, hoping in particular, they might discuss what it is that is said about Irishmen. But I didn't get to hear because I heard a "Humph" and they quieted as Dr. Daven shuffled into me room. And I mean shuffled. He had to be as old as his antique collection. My smile froze on me face as I looked into gigantic faded blue eyes behind the thickest eyeglasses I had ever seen. WOWEY, WOW, WOW!
I had visions of me leaving toothless, or worse being fitted for dentures! I was beginning to perspire I can tell you that much. The good doctor introduced himself and said to me, "So you're Gabriel. My assistants are making a fuss about you out there."
I was gobsmacked. What was I to say to that, "Yes, I know I could hear them." or "Yes, that's the reaction I usually get." Instead I dumbly smiled and shrugged me shoulders. Talk about awkward.
One of the twittering assistants came in and she was all red in the face, and I realised she had to be 60 if she was day. I was thinking this isn't looking good, and I could almost feel the pressure of me fingers around Chloe's neck in me mind. I tried to relax, when another assistant, one I hadn't seen came in to busy herself with wiping down the instruments from the sterilizer fluid. I realised the only reason she was in there was to take a peek at yours truly. I continued to smile feeling like a dumbarse.
"Let's open wide Mr. O'Sullivan and let me take a good look at those choppers," said Dr. Daven.
CHOPPERS? I was gobsmacked again. CHOPPERS? The girl started giggling and I accommodated Dr. Daven by opening wide. The young assistant realised by the stunned expression on me face I had never heard teeth referred to as "choppers" before, and the good doctor was deaf as a door post, so he didn't hear the giggling behind him. He poked around and prodded and I gave an ouch once or twice at the pointed instrument penetrating me gums. I prayed to God to please guide his hands because he can't fecking see!
When he was finished poking around in there, he said, "Mr. O'Sullivan you have a very clean mouth." I thought, if you only knew what thoughts I was having while you were in there, you wouldn't say I have a clean mouth.
I smiled and thanked him. Then because the younger nurse was ogling me and it was unexpected she'd do that with her boss in the room (but then I remembered he was probably blind and worked by rote with his hands telling him if the teeth were decayed or fit). I blurted out, "Well, it be all those potatoes we eat back home." Talk about stupid things to say, that was the dumbest thing I've said in a long time, and of course, everyone politely laughed at me poor joke, making me feel dumb to the extreme.
Dr. Daven said Miss Trainor would be in to do a prophylaxis procedure and take some X-rays and then he'd be back, but his preliminary exam showed a "good set of choppers there, Mr. O'Sullivan."
God in heaven. Then I thought prophylaxis? Before I could ask, out the Doctor and the older nurse shuffled and in came Hygienist Jennifer Trainor. I read her name tag and noticed right off as she came in and immediately leaned forward, easing me lips apart to peer in at me 'choppers,' that she was very well endowed indeed. I was grateful the heavy X-ray proof apron she put on me extended to me knees because Hygienist Trainor had on a short uniform with the top three buttons way too far open, and the view from where I was, was damn spectacular.
As she told me to raise up straighter so she could fit the films in without pinching me, I felt something else wanting to rise up. Forget Waldo, me eyes were looking down her top because it was just too hard not to.
The young assistant stood there in the corner still wiping down instruments with a vengeance, her eyes slits in her head as she watched Hygienist Trainor stuff me mouth with X-rays. She left so she wouldn't be exposed to the X-rays and brushed passed me as she did, almost making me swallow the film I had clamped back between me teeth and throat.
Once Hygienist Trainor was through trying to gag me with X-ray film, she got out the paste (cherry -- her choice) and proceeded to ask me questions as she polished me teeth with me trying to answer with, "Uuuunahhh," and "Yahhh anndddd llll ammmm frooooo Irelaaaaan owwwww!" Meanwhile, the two younger assistants, the one that seated me and the one that had been polishing the instruments to a gleam from jealousy, were standing at me feet smiling and waving. It was surreal, totally surreal.
If the doctor was younger he wouldn't have abided that kind of unprofessional behaviour in his staff, but he was blind! He didn't know and I wasn't about to tell him, and ruin me wonderful view of Hygienist Trainor's boobs.
The end result was no cavities (I heard one of the young things swear under her breath, "Aw shucks!" but it wasn't shucks she said, it was something you can well imagine) and fine looking straight and dazzling 'choppers.'
I asked Chloe this morning what she was thinking when she recommended a half blind dentist who was also deaf, who had Pamela Anderson working as a dental hygienist, and a dazzling array of horny office personnel. She was like, "What? Dr. Daven is such a sweetheart. I've been going to him since I was a little girl."
"And I bet your parents went to him too."
"Yeah, why do you say that?"
"And, your grandparents and them before that, am I right?"
"Didn't you like Dr. Daven?" She asked without a clue.
I looked up and sniffed, pressed me lips together and looked at Chloe's big questioning eyes and I shook me head, held up me index finger and shook it, but speech eluded me. Finally I said, "Nevermind. I left with all me 'choppers' and they are bright and shinny, and I have no need to buy PLAYBOY magazine ever again, because all I have to do is close me eyes and think of dental Hygienist Jennifer Trainor, and I'm all set for another six months. If I had to go back before that, no telling what would happen to me."
A slow smile spread across her face.
"What?" I asked feeling uncomfortable something awful was about to be said.
"Well . . . ," she handed me a Post-A-Note, "You left your insurance card there, you have to go back."
NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!
GABE
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