Poor, poor teeth.
Being poor is hard work. I’m not poor enough to have to survive on water and mealy bugs, but poor enough to, occasionally get me into trouble. My dentist, for instance, now thinks that I have a mortal fear of him. I don’t. The reason for this is that I canceled an appointment with him oh-so-long-ago because I didn’t have the 3000 I needed to cough up to get a couple of teeth cleaned and fixed.
Now, a year later I find myself with an unpleasantly painful reminder of that I should have probably booked an appointment earlier. I made a new appointment for a check-up with said dentist. As soon as I enter the office, there he is, wringing his hands in disappointment that he has not been sufficiently sensitive to my needs during that check-up a year ago, fearful of that he had maybe scared me off.
Do I reply that I’d blown my dentist-money on a wild night out? No. The man is in obvious need of forgiveness, and so I forgive him, with an added "...Well, maybe we can try this again. Start afresh. Please be gentle". Because I realize that lame excuses will only enrage him, and I do not want to enrage someone who hypothetically might have watched "The Dentist" on repeat and gone a bit insane himself in the process.
You can NOT trust someone who makes his livelihood on drilling someone, unless it’s your friendly neighborhood hooker, and trusting even him is a stretch. I think that’s why so many people feel a vague nagging sense of insecurity after visiting a prostitute. Was it right to run away afterward? Were your fears legitimized or should you maybe not have killed her?
By the end of the visit, I had booked a time with not only the dentist but also with a dental hygienist, a woman that the dentist took the time to bring into his office so that she could "soothe my fears" in preparation for my appointment with her. I found myself adding the slightest quiver to my voice, showing just the right amount of wavering confidence. I’m not sure if I pulled it off or not – fact is no-one likes going to the dentist – but now I have two people who want to take that bit of extra care with me when I go to their office. And that feels nice. The tooth-ache, however, due to the long waiting period between appointments so as to not "overwhelm me" (was the explanation) – is not as kind to me. But this is probably what one should expect being poor. I think I’ll go get some comfort food tonight; a couple of Maine lobsters should hit the spot.
Now, a year later I find myself with an unpleasantly painful reminder of that I should have probably booked an appointment earlier. I made a new appointment for a check-up with said dentist. As soon as I enter the office, there he is, wringing his hands in disappointment that he has not been sufficiently sensitive to my needs during that check-up a year ago, fearful of that he had maybe scared me off.
Do I reply that I’d blown my dentist-money on a wild night out? No. The man is in obvious need of forgiveness, and so I forgive him, with an added "...Well, maybe we can try this again. Start afresh. Please be gentle". Because I realize that lame excuses will only enrage him, and I do not want to enrage someone who hypothetically might have watched "The Dentist" on repeat and gone a bit insane himself in the process.
You can NOT trust someone who makes his livelihood on drilling someone, unless it’s your friendly neighborhood hooker, and trusting even him is a stretch. I think that’s why so many people feel a vague nagging sense of insecurity after visiting a prostitute. Was it right to run away afterward? Were your fears legitimized or should you maybe not have killed her?
By the end of the visit, I had booked a time with not only the dentist but also with a dental hygienist, a woman that the dentist took the time to bring into his office so that she could "soothe my fears" in preparation for my appointment with her. I found myself adding the slightest quiver to my voice, showing just the right amount of wavering confidence. I’m not sure if I pulled it off or not – fact is no-one likes going to the dentist – but now I have two people who want to take that bit of extra care with me when I go to their office. And that feels nice. The tooth-ache, however, due to the long waiting period between appointments so as to not "overwhelm me" (was the explanation) – is not as kind to me. But this is probably what one should expect being poor. I think I’ll go get some comfort food tonight; a couple of Maine lobsters should hit the spot.
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