Fill me in...
It was back to one of my favourite haunts yesterday...I say 'haunts' because the people in the waiting room tend to have that ghostly pallor and sit there patiently, nervously sweating while they wait their turn.
Yep, it was back to the bloody dentist again. Now as you may recall, I have absolutely no qualms about going to see my dentist. If we met under any other circumstances other than with me laid back with my mouth open while he prodded about in there with his tools of torture, I'm sure we'd get along just fine. He is funny, charming, very patient and considerate. If only he could just change his bloody job title.
I'd gone there with a grumbling tooth and with a confession which could have blown the socks off the editor of Dentistry Today, such was the announcement I had to make.
'I need to tell you something before I sit down', I said from the doorway.
He already had that pointy, metal thing in his hand and he gently laid it down on the shelf next to the chair. 'Go on', he said.
Plucking up all the courage I could muster, I went on to tell him how I had performed some of my own dentistry with some temporary filling from the chemist. 'That's alright', he said. 'Assuming you followed the instructions, it's fine'.
'Instructions?' I asked.
'Yes, instructions. Mainly the one about having a qualified dentist, ie me (told you he had a sense of humour) remove it after forty eight hours'.
The look on my face told him everything he needed to know.
'How long has it been in then?'
'Since April', I said quietly. Shaking his head, he gestured towards the chair. 'Get in the chair'. For a second, I was tempted to go all M&M on him and retort with a 'You get in the chair', but decided that I quite liked my life so meekly sat down.
As he removed my handiwork, he mentioned that I'd done quite well with the temporary filling. 'You'll be offering me a job next', I quipped.
Sliding the mask off his face like Dick Turpin after a particularly fruitful night's work, he glared at me.
Don't push your luck'...
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