Dentist this morning. Not a hot dentist, as some might have hoped. (And, by-the-way, who knew that was a popular fantasy??) Well, I guess “hot” depends on your point of view. SHE was a very good dentist. The closest I came to a man at all was the office manager (I don’t think I was particularly his type, if you get my drift), and a dental stuff salesman who stopped by the room where I was getting my roots cleaned out. He did appear to have nice brown eyes behind his glasses (which I’m a shameless fan of). At least what I could tell from looking at him upside-down from the dental chair. I’m pretty sure one look at me at that moment would have proven that I was not a prize. Or maybe he has a fetish for women wearing generic shaded glasses that keep tooth gunk from getting in their eyes. Or it’s possible that snazzy green piece of rubber that they put in my mouth to keep my tooth dry while they worked on it was especially sexy in my mouth, all flapping around in the breeze from the drill.
It didn’t hurt. Of course I was shot so through with Novocain that THE BACK OF MY HEAD WAS NUMB! Actually, it hurt so little that I went to work and worked all day. It just started hurting a couple of hours ago, but I got some nifty little prescriptions so I’m doin’ allllll riiiiiight.
There was this one time that I had a hot dentist. Actually, he was an oral surgeon, and he extracted my wisdom teeth. I went in for the preliminary visit where explained what he was going to do in the surgery. I was like, “Sure! You and your pretty grey eyes can do whatever you want!” The surgery was done the day after Valentine’s Day. As the nurses were prepping me for the surgery, we were all talking about the gifts we had received the day before. One said she had gotten an Oscar fish. The other said her husband had given her lingerie. I had gotten a framed Monet print. The Doctor came in and they told me to count back from 100. I remember getting to 93. I woke up to my then-boyfriend shaking my arm and saying “Honey? Honey?” Then, the next thing I knew he was walking me out to the parking lot. I had the vague understanding that there was someone else there with us. I was telling him about my gift conversation with the nurses. I said, “One of them got a fish called Oscar! The other one got lingerie! And she was the OLD one!!” Guess who it was helping him help me to the car? Yep, the OLD one.