Confession: I have not been to the dentist in years.
I know. Ew.
Well, I broke my dentist drought tonight.
I showed up to find that there was literally NO ONE in the office but me. And the dentist. Awkward.
As I'm filling out forms in the (eerie) silence, I notice the selection of magazines on the table, including the "Body" issue of ESPN magazine with a half-clothed woman on the cover. And supposedly completely not-clothed women inside.
So suddenly I'm thinking about Tim Whatley. And wanting to run out the door.
But I stayed. Long enough to endure such torture that I think I would have preferred to deliver a baby--naturally--tonight instead. (Note to self: do not make dental appointments so soon after having been pregnant. My gums are SO SENSITIVE. It was a blood bath. Again, ew.)
Finally, to top it all off...he suddenly says he's out of time. That I'll have to come back in two weeks for the check-up portion, x-rays etc. Um, okay.
All in all, he was a nice enough guy, but I'm suddenly not feeling so cowardly for having procrastinated making an appointment. Because between:
and the bleeding gums,
the dentist was no picnic. So I will now happily go on record with Jerry as being an anti-dentite.