The Dentist

Riffing off of Alice's trip to the dentist...

It was my second trip to my new LA dentist, but the first time I met the dentist herself and got the full check up.

Something very unnerving about visiting a new dentist, especially because Dr. Bellinger is the only dentist I've ever had. Tear. Needless to say, I was very comfortable with him, despite the fact that he didn't use gloves sometimes. (He washed his hands, okay, and he was old, and I trusted him).

So I'm checking out the digs of this new dentist, trying gauge whether I've wandered into some phony dentist who more rightly belonged in Little Shop of Horrors. The hygenist acted as though she knew what she was doing and used the water spik instead of the scraper. She did not compliment my teeth (like my old dentist used to) and instead said I needed to floss more because my gums bled a lot. They had lots of high tech stuff computer stuff, like a dvd player and digital xrays and a computerized scheduling system all right in the office. Of course, all this high tech stuff made me suspicious - my old dentist didn't need this and he did just fine. These nuevo-dentists and their fancy gadgets. What happened to just good old braces and polishing?

So I'm getting my teeth scrubbed away thinking there's no way I'd be able to handle torture and another hygenist comes in reminding my current hygenist that she needs to take pictures of my teeth.

"Oh, no." I think. "I don't want to be one of the pictures on the wall. Pleeease, no."

But I have no say in the matter. I am escorted into another room and asked to hold these plastic contraptions to stretch my lips and expose my teeth. I do so while this other hygenist snaps a digital photo of my teeth. I see myself in the mirror holding my lips open and this weird lady taking photos and me and suddenly realize I must have stumbled into some fake dentist internet company who publishes fetish pictures of mouths on the internet. I am scared.

The "dentist" comes in because the hygenist is having some type of trouble with the digital camera and starts to assist her. Meanwhile, my mouth is stretched open. The next set of shots require a mirror being shoved into my throat to get an angle on my teeth. Because I must breathe, the mirror fogs, but not so long as the hygenist uses her can of cool spray to counteract my breathing on the mirror. Imagine me, holding my lips wide open, a women shoving a mirror down my throat and spraying some type of cool, compressed air on the mirror, and the third women acting like a set photographer and you get the idea.

What kind of perverse world had I fallen into? This is unnecessary. My old dentist never took digital pictures of my teeth. I remember Andy's story of his childhood soccer coach who took pictures of all the players on the team to "remember names." Later, he was convicted of child molestation.

Could I take these two women if had to? Certainly not with the mirror shoved down my throat. One strong punch and it would've been death for Greg.

Finally the picture session was over and common sense got ahold of me. Why would these people go through this elaborate set up to take pictures of my teeth and put them on the internet? They are probably legit. You've been in LA too long. You're going crazy. You need to trust people more. That's why you don't have a girlfriend.

"Okay, so now we need to take you picture in our picture studio."

"What?"

"Stand up there against the wall."

"Why?"

"For our file."

I stand up against the wall. Next to me is a movie poster for a Hepburn and Tracy movie. I smile crookedly.

"You've got nice teeth."