Proof That God Is Not 100% Free Trade Organic Love: The Dentist
Rude Chicken Might Not Have Teeth, But His Opinions Are Fully Fluoridated.
No one likes going to the dentist. Look at the lengths we go to in effort to avoid getting our proverbial tires rotated at the mouth mechanic! Teeth brushing, teeth flossing, mouth washing, tongue scraping, and the hardware upgrading we do every day, sometimes multiple times a day, just to not have to sit in that deceptively comfortable looking lounge chair.
That chair is likely the greatest lie we’ve been sold since if we didn’t pay attention in algebra we’d never amount to anything. Which in retrospect is kind of a pun, if you think about it. But aside from putting the pun in punishment, let’s drill down to the root of the matter, and see what pulp we can extract. The sum of all fears: The Dentist.
In the old days, we just tore our broken teeth out. We knew we weren’t sharks with their infinite rows of endlessly replaceable meat cutters, yet we did it anyway. We used rocks, bow drills, hammers, strings around doors, Cats the Broadway play, and anything that Jake Paul is involved in. Nary a calm voiced white coat around. And for the record, what kind of sadist is capable of speaking so damn calmly while making you wish the bright ass light they shoved in your face was an entrance to the hereafter?! Hannibal Lecter. Maybe Pinhead. Either way, this is the type of “person” we’ve been conditioned to pay for help with our dental woes.
The drill doesn’t have to be that high pitched. Sounding like they gave 600mg of adderall to a micro machine, then having the gall to ask “Did that hurt?” If you say “yes”, that mask covers their smile of ecstasy, if you say “no?” it’s challenge accepted, now suck on this straw while I queue up my next red carnival of jollies for you. Hygienist looking on like hell’s designated cheerleader. Ready to polish away whatever sins the grand master committed to your oral architecture with mint and if you’re lucky bubble gum flavored paste. They used to have a dozen flavors of peace offerings for us. Now? One. Rarely, 2. I’d blame inflation, but I refuse to believe it would strike the proletariat in such a vulnerable spot. This is why dental is never natively bundled with health insurance. Big insurance knows what’s going on here, maybe they’re even in on it, just without the Valium scented candles in the back offices.
Heraclitus, a great n glorious philosopher once said, “Everything flows, and nothing abides, everything gives way, and nothing stays fixed.” Which is a perfect description of my temper. Because we can fit a proton through the anus of matter itself, but we have yet to discover how to make fillings that don’t fail, or how to tell our teeth to fix themselves. Then expect me to believe that this diesel powered tooth brush with bluetooth somehow clears tartar worse than a chewing sticks still used by the Hadza tribespeople. Do they even get tartar? Every time one of them smile it’s like the 2nd coming of Christ.
Speaking of Christ, why is it that dental pain hits so different? Who thought it was a good idea to give every single tooth a red telephone straight to the pain center in the brain? A priority line that’s got a ring so obnoxiously loud it shuts down every other bodily function simultaneously? Not only is it rude, it’s selfish. Why did God decide to make my broken femur a 2nd class citizen to my 2nd molar? I don’t know if that’s blasphemy, but you know what? It is. Imagine the parachute not opening and your body laying in the shape of a new age mandala, but instead of good vibes all you’re thinking about is your broken incisor. Yes. I’d be in shock too.
Sure, you’re probably thinking “Uhm... RC, you don’t have any teeth. You’re a chicken.” And you’d be right. I don’t have teeth. But for a moment, I had empathy. Why’re you trying to take that away from me? You’re insufferable.
-RC
This cracks me up. 😂 Thank you, RC!