[disclaimer] I am posting this here not “The Pit” 'Cuz it is intended for amusement pupses only and is not an actual flame… I acknowledge that I brought this all on myself by not going to the dentist regularly… I just wanted to share my feelings on the subject [/disclaimer]
Yes… when I walked in and sat in her little area, I couldn’t help but feel relief. She had little “I Love Lucy” knick-knacks and chotskys everywhere… “She HAS to be nice and gentle”, I thought… this is before I learned that she was the spawn of Satan.
My dentist’s name is Vishnu… and while I am not a Hindu, I sort of liked the concept of my dentist being named after a preserver god. Then I found out that my hygenist was Shiva the Destroyer!
Well… it had been a while since my last trip to the dentist (8 yrs… I know, I KNOW! :smack: ) And I wasn’t aware of the technological strides taken to create bold, exciting new implements of pain…er tooth-cleaning aids. She used this thing that blasted water into my teeth… like some twisted bizzarro-world water-pick designed specifically for masochists and political torture. She stuck this thing in my mouth and it let out a blood-curdling wail… a sound I associated with the agonized wails of all the tortured souls in hell. It felt like a cross between a razorblade and a jackhammer. Within 5 minutes I was ready to talk. “I’ll tell you EVERYTHING”, I gasped. And then realized I don’t know anything.” All I could think of was that scene from that James Bond film where James asks the bad guy if the bad guy expects him to talk and the bad guys says “No, Mr. Bond…. I expect you to DIE!” My truck beckoned to me from the parking lot, mocking me with it’s nearness, yet remaining unreachable. “Fly, you fool!” it said. “Run to me! I will take you to a safe place!” I was, however, trapped upside down…. In The Chair”.
After flailing away with what I will call “The Machine” for what seemed a lifetime of total and abject pain, she went old-fashioned on my ass, reaching back into her weapon rack for the “pick of despair” the needle-sharp, wickedly hooked “tool” I am familiar with from the torture sessions of my youth. She apparently used this and a rusty Ginzu knife to peel back my gums, and flay the roots of my teeth. At one point I am sitting in “The Chair” and I let out a low moan… Attila asks, with venomous sarcasm, “Is that a little tender?” I say, “Well, you just dumped a half-gallon of water into my gasping, gaping maw and I can still taste the blood, and I can feel pieces of flayed gum flapping in my mouth… waddaya YOU think?”
This was just my cleaning… I may have to commit seppuku before submitting myself to the ignominy and indignity of the treatment they have waiting for me when they actually start doing WORK in there!