Halloween, the one major day of the year that involves candy, treats, sugar, and sugary candy treats, all for free at most any house you go to. Knock on the door and strangers oblige your sugar jones and seem kind of happy to do it. (It works better if you have a small disguised child with you, but seldom do you get refused.) This one crazy day of neighbors greeting each other and yacking it up, dishing out the goods to all who pass, is the one day I always seem to end up at the dentist.
Yesterday was no different. Costumed health care professionals wandering about using the day as an opportunity to display cleavage, gams and unusual amounts of make-up fashioned after crazy Aunt Viola's recreation of her USO days trying to bag a man. And that was just the MALE health care professionals!
As no surprise, my dentist passed through the office and waved to me dressed as the devil. For some reason his lovely assistant was wearing a skin tight leopard print top with horns on her head. She may need to get out a little more often, or at least take a trip to the zoo or the library. I do not recall seeing any of the big cats with horns of a ram on their head unless the rest of the ram was in their belly and the cat was intoxicated showing off at a party. Not to dwell on this, but she also thought that eye shadow applied all the way to the ears was appropriate for her cat-goat simulation.
My turn to sit in the chair. I am by no means the largest guy walking around the town wearing a wrist watch, but I certainly felt like a sasquatch in this office. The adjustable dental chair with it's ergonomic twists and bends to fit the contours of a small ferret is something I have difficulty with. The headrest was at the center of my back, the arm rests might have supported a pack of gum and the leg extension was just wide enough to comfortably hold 3/4 of one leg and long enough to end halfway down my calves creating a lovely crease of bruising that looked like a tribal tattoo gone bad.
My dentist asked how I was doing and I responded, "I am looking at the devil with a drill in his hand while his goat creature buddy has a thing to suck the moisture out of my head. Not so good."
He chuckled his hyena laugh and proceeded to stab me several times in the mouth while making that flappy sound with my cheek. I think the cheek thing was supposed to distract me from the stabbing. It may have been for the amusement of his sidekick. I don't know. I'll have to ask next Halloween.
Needless to say there was much screaming and kicking and loud utteral sounds with no distinction of words that I designed with the intent of scaring the other folks in the waiting area. That's funny to me.
After what felt like a couple of hours went by, I was filled and rinsed and robbed and on my way out of the office when I noticed a pamphlet that demonstrated how to silently communicate with your dentist during treatment by hand gestures. The illustrations were good, but I noticed 2 glaring omissions. The only gestures I have considered using in the past were not included. The classic side to side motion of the index finger across the throat ending with a deliberate point at the dentist with the same index finger, and of course, the extending of the middle digit from a balled fist, mimicking the proud presence of a large bird.
In defiance of the visit and celebration of the day I had 2 Butterfinger bars and a Snickers, a quart of Mrs. Butterworth and fond memories of a caramel apple that I crafted and consumed under the supervision and direction of Jody this past Sunday. Dee-lish!
