A Way With People

I didn't say what kind of way.

I had a dentist appointment scheduled for when I was going to be out of town a couple of weeks ago so I called the office to reschedule.

RECEPTIONIST: Ok, so it looks like the next available spot we have is in November.
JEN: Whoa, what?
RECEPTIONIST: I know, it’s insane. But I can put you on a list for cancellations.
JEN: That’d be great, thank yooouuu…(?)

Trailing off in confusion. Dentistry and I have a complicated relationship. Or going to the dentist, rather. (In my habitual hunt for finding a word that doesn’t exist such as a noun to mean “going to the dentist,” I googled “words relating to dentist.” Don’t do that. It’s gross.)

I had some dental trauma growing up. I didn’t have difficult procedures but it always used to hurt me a lot when I had cavities filled, which seemed frequent. I loathed the nitrous oxide and the shots hurt like demons. Hands clenched, my head a little bit lower than my feet, forced to stare up at bizarre images and creepy implements, it’s not historically been a pleasant experience.

But I’ve grown a lot. I’ve also ceased to have cavities in my adult years which helps a lot. They’ve also changed the images I’m forced to look at to more pleasant scenery and when I go, some joke about my sarcastic enthusiasm for being there is guaranteed and now seems tradition. I do like the people there and overall it’s not so bad. There, I said it.

Luckily (?) they called saying they had a spot a few days ago and did I want it? It was a confusing experience to be happy to receive this call and this weird moment came when they made me say it: That I wanted to go to the dentist. I perfectly illustrated the scarcity principle when she offered me the available date and, feeling like I won a small lottery, I responded with,

“Yes! I want it! I’ll take it!”

What is happening. This is probably what adulthood means: Genuine excitement for depressing things you loathed as a child because you know it’s good for you. Excitement. Sigh.

When facing stressful situations, I try to make it fun for myself. What could I do? What could I dooo…. Ah ha. I decided to wear the t-shirt they give if you have no cavities. Sort of like wearing the clothes you got at a store to the store, but even better/cooler. I genuinely like these tees, though. Fortunately, I happened to take a pic that morning to send to my hair stylist because I like to keep her updated on how the haircut’s doing/growing. Sort of like I’m plant-sitting for her, like my hair is really hers and she entrusted it to my care.

When I was in the waiting room, a friend I rarely see came in.

“Well, well! Fancy seeing you,” said I, and only mildly menacing.

She’s the kind of friend where we can start having a real conversation even though we haven’t really spent much time together. These friendships are strange to me. There must be some weird underlying compatibility that I cannot put my finger on. It may be that she’s able to roll with whatever weird thing that comes out of my mouth, something I really treasure in a person.

We talked about all sorts of things. I found myself jealous of the woman sitting near her as I would love to have been an innocent stranger overhearing the kind of conversation we were having. I hoped it was good for her sake because truly, nothing is better.

We discussed families and children but in a not boring way. We discussed hobbies and interests of late. Projects and whatnot. I asked her if she liked this dentist. She said she was new and it was her first cleaning. I told her about my dentophobia as a child and asked, why then, would I still go to my childhood dentist? She was incredulous and I confirmed it and then showed her my t-shirt.

“If you have no cavities, you get a prize, like this cool shirt, which I have been getting since I was a teenager.” *

And I revealed my tee underneath my jacket, like I was selling wares attached to the interior but instead wanted her to see the logo. I was dying at the weirdness of all of this, let alone for my friend who seemed amused though, again, incredulous, but especially from the point of view of the stranger lady. I can just imagine her re-telling it (I hope):

“…and then she showed her dentist t-shirt she wore to the dentist.”

Finally my friend was called in and I wished her good luck which probably sounded more foreboding than I intended.

I then sent Sean some texts that looked like this:

I had the giggles for far too long. (Luckily the stranger woman was still there.)

My own cleaning went very well. My hygienist asked me a follow-up question about an event I had six months ago that I hardly remember. I was impressed. (Apparently she’d made a note of it) This jogged a memory of something she had told me then and I thought us both very successful at picking up a conversation from six months ago.

When the dentist came in, we had a nice chat as I believe I have mastered the skill of responding and carrying on a conversation in spite of his fingers being in my mouth. I told him about my Havasupai trip and he asked a lot of questions. I told him the hike in was,

“A bit of a b…” and he finished the word:

“Bear?”
“Bear, yeah. I was going to say ‘butt face’ but then I remembered I’m in a place of business.”
“Well, I thought you were going to say another B word so…”
“And that would work as well.”

And thus concludes my latest trip to the dentist.

The moral: You can turn anything into a story if you try really, really hard just talk to people. And being a bit of a weirdo always helps.

_________________

*Also I’m pretty sure I wore one of these in my wedding announcement photo.
Yup— found a pic:

Seanifer keeping it fancy.