Novacaine

So I go to the dentist yesterday, Thursday afternoon, to have a broken tooth repaired. I do not like to go to the dentist. I went anyway despite my anxieties and have a seat in the waiting area. Because it is in the afternoon I am seated with old ladies that do not work. Although I do not work - I have not yet become an old lady.

In the office WMGK is playing the hits from yesteryear. My yesteryear, not theirs. I remember when these hits were new. Now I'm getting lost in the music of my youth - knowing every word to every song being played - tapping along with both feet, bobbing the head to the rhythm - having a good ole time trying to forget the impending gum stabbing and tooth drilling, then I notice ... her.

If she were to stand she would barely be waist high to me. She was flipping through a magazine that was larger than her lap full of cosmetic ads and smells with as many pages as her face appeared to have - deep chapters of a life well lived. Apparently she was grooving to the tunes much like me, except she was about 120 years old and did her head bobbing double time!

Pleased to have company enjoying the same sounds - I was compelled to make what I thought was a clever comment, being Mr. Friendly and all. "It's so nice not to dance alone. Come here often?"

In response to my comment she gives me the stink eye and says in a very agitated tone, "What?" Getting ready to repeat my light hearted banter I realize the music has stopped and her head is still going at it.

Boy was my face red. I didn't feel a thing the dentist did to me.