"What the hell is this place? I came here to have my teeth cleaned; what's all the rest of this?"
Her emaculate Highness nodded to me and said she'd be right back. The Doctor came in.
"We need to examine your entire dental profile to see where we are." He smiled at me. I was to learn to like this guy, my favorite Dentist. We sure didn't get off to a smooth start. His Hygenist didn't know what to do with me. It wasn't her fault. My wife had led me here, I'd been bamboozeled; 'just a cleaning, just a cleaning."
IT wasn't just a cleaning. Before we were done he'd ground some and chipped some, X-rayed, poked and wired, filled and buffed. They love X Rays there. I'm gonna die of something awful because they siddle up to the X Ray machine for any minor question, to get inside, to take a look. All that looking is going to be the death of me some day, but I just let it go. I'm a Guinnea Pig. I was born here and follow the rules best I can. Sure, stick it in or turn on the screen or put the plate there: what difference does it make? Somedays I feel like I'm in a big chemical soup, lost, being exposed to uncharted interactions resulting in mutations and evolutions and revolutions. "All those preservatives may be preserving you," Grace Slick said. I dunno. I do know we've all been introduced to so many environmental agents that there is no way anyone will ever figure out how we got to where we are going. We'll never know if it's the peptines, the rayons, heavy metals, space rays, bio gooks...we just keep walking through it all without a clue.
But I like this old man, the Dentist, even though he's zapping me. He tells stories as he works, great wonderful stories of people and places with a little humor and heart. We hit it off. The only problem was I couldn't match him story for story with my mouth propped open and him drilling in there. But he calmed me down that first day and we got to talking and we've never stopped talking.
Some visits I don't get to see him. That's too bad. The entire staff is warm and off the wall and lively, with the exception of the Hygenist. She's a beautiful woman with a perfect figure and perfect teeth. It actually made me uncomfortable to be around her; I was flawed corruption, my life was shit, her's was probably in great order, as well defined as her healthy pink gumlines. What teeth, neat in a row, like Doris Day. In my orifice there was rot and exposed root and fleshy dead. The decay, evidence of neglect and abuse and misuse of a life that could not be hidden, I could not hide. But she was health, beauty, form and organization. And I couldn't talk to her. Everytime I wandered off the 'official' track, she'd whip me into place. She had the knack of shutting down real humor and spontaeity with just a few words. I felt useless. My IQ dropped about 30 points talking to her. I had to keep it on the baby level all the time. Superficial stuff. Yes, your good looking son is in college, yes, he does well, your husband works hard, blaa bllaa blaa.
I fought this, and finally, gave in. Yep. I just smiled and let her do her job. Whatever. I couldn't figure her out. It didn't hurt me any to just let her direct the work and the conversation. No skin off my back. So what if I couldn't crack jokes? One day I walked into the office and announced in my usual loud voice, "I finally figured out how to get along with Miss ________." I stated. "Surrender, relax, you're not going anywhere. Don't fight it, just go with the flow and let it go her own way."
The other dental assistant laughed and nodded agreement. The Doc shook his head. They knew it too. She was organized and had everything going her way.
In her way, it was all very mysterious. Her eyes, large, clear and perfect. Perfect figure. Mouth, expressions, everything in order and aligned correctly. Next to her I was a 60's Pick Up Truck with a rusted bed. She was another species entirely. I didn't understand. How could I?
I wondered if she disliked me because of my rude questions? But I'd stopped making them. My voice got softer and softer whenever I saw her, had to spend time with her, cleaning my mouth. What a life. I was in a chair with my mouth propped wide open and the earth was spinning and she was talking to me.
"They really don't like me," she said, suddenly, 'they give me a hard time."
"I can see that," I said, having given her a hard time myself on many occasions.
"But they do like you." I told her. The staff. The Doc who told stories, the receptionist who loved my children and recently had her own losses in life. The Technician who'd seen lots of the world and always added to the Doctor's stories; the gang was all here and she was the one OUT. In her voice I knew all that perfection didn't count because she was alone. We were two souls sitting in a cubicle in a Office suddenly aware of each other and our hearts and dreams. You could feel it. The love of the World. The Great Heart.
"No, they give me a hard time."
"I'm sorry," I said, 'now I understand."
"Now we understand one another."
"Yes, we do."
I stood up and hugged her. She was a human being. She was trying her best. She didn't mean to be perfect, to have walls, to have rivers and barbed wired and boundaries you were not supposed to cross, and she was as much a victim as a perp. A perfect doll. I loved her then. Sure, I could love her, God gave love to all, it flows everywhere. It wasnt to be, of course, I was married and had three kids and one of them was getting looked at in the next room. Actually, it was she who hugged me, grabbed my hand,
"now we understand one another." She said again.
God. I wish I could do something. I can't do anything. I can't fix you from here. I can't even fix myself. We are all of us on the same path, we only think it's different because the scenery fools us. We are alone. and when we see each other, truly see, we rejoice in the knowledge that God is Great, God is Good, and He put us here not to be fixed, but to be seen, to be understood.
So you understand completely, she got to be seen, to be understood and forgiven. A moment happened. I saw a lady. The lady saw me. For a moment in time there were no laws or boundaries but just people. And people are very lonely, and they need to be recognized.
munk
Her emaculate Highness nodded to me and said she'd be right back. The Doctor came in.
"We need to examine your entire dental profile to see where we are." He smiled at me. I was to learn to like this guy, my favorite Dentist. We sure didn't get off to a smooth start. His Hygenist didn't know what to do with me. It wasn't her fault. My wife had led me here, I'd been bamboozeled; 'just a cleaning, just a cleaning."
IT wasn't just a cleaning. Before we were done he'd ground some and chipped some, X-rayed, poked and wired, filled and buffed. They love X Rays there. I'm gonna die of something awful because they siddle up to the X Ray machine for any minor question, to get inside, to take a look. All that looking is going to be the death of me some day, but I just let it go. I'm a Guinnea Pig. I was born here and follow the rules best I can. Sure, stick it in or turn on the screen or put the plate there: what difference does it make? Somedays I feel like I'm in a big chemical soup, lost, being exposed to uncharted interactions resulting in mutations and evolutions and revolutions. "All those preservatives may be preserving you," Grace Slick said. I dunno. I do know we've all been introduced to so many environmental agents that there is no way anyone will ever figure out how we got to where we are going. We'll never know if it's the peptines, the rayons, heavy metals, space rays, bio gooks...we just keep walking through it all without a clue.
But I like this old man, the Dentist, even though he's zapping me. He tells stories as he works, great wonderful stories of people and places with a little humor and heart. We hit it off. The only problem was I couldn't match him story for story with my mouth propped open and him drilling in there. But he calmed me down that first day and we got to talking and we've never stopped talking.
Some visits I don't get to see him. That's too bad. The entire staff is warm and off the wall and lively, with the exception of the Hygenist. She's a beautiful woman with a perfect figure and perfect teeth. It actually made me uncomfortable to be around her; I was flawed corruption, my life was shit, her's was probably in great order, as well defined as her healthy pink gumlines. What teeth, neat in a row, like Doris Day. In my orifice there was rot and exposed root and fleshy dead. The decay, evidence of neglect and abuse and misuse of a life that could not be hidden, I could not hide. But she was health, beauty, form and organization. And I couldn't talk to her. Everytime I wandered off the 'official' track, she'd whip me into place. She had the knack of shutting down real humor and spontaeity with just a few words. I felt useless. My IQ dropped about 30 points talking to her. I had to keep it on the baby level all the time. Superficial stuff. Yes, your good looking son is in college, yes, he does well, your husband works hard, blaa bllaa blaa.
I fought this, and finally, gave in. Yep. I just smiled and let her do her job. Whatever. I couldn't figure her out. It didn't hurt me any to just let her direct the work and the conversation. No skin off my back. So what if I couldn't crack jokes? One day I walked into the office and announced in my usual loud voice, "I finally figured out how to get along with Miss ________." I stated. "Surrender, relax, you're not going anywhere. Don't fight it, just go with the flow and let it go her own way."
The other dental assistant laughed and nodded agreement. The Doc shook his head. They knew it too. She was organized and had everything going her way.
In her way, it was all very mysterious. Her eyes, large, clear and perfect. Perfect figure. Mouth, expressions, everything in order and aligned correctly. Next to her I was a 60's Pick Up Truck with a rusted bed. She was another species entirely. I didn't understand. How could I?
I wondered if she disliked me because of my rude questions? But I'd stopped making them. My voice got softer and softer whenever I saw her, had to spend time with her, cleaning my mouth. What a life. I was in a chair with my mouth propped wide open and the earth was spinning and she was talking to me.
"They really don't like me," she said, suddenly, 'they give me a hard time."
"I can see that," I said, having given her a hard time myself on many occasions.
"But they do like you." I told her. The staff. The Doc who told stories, the receptionist who loved my children and recently had her own losses in life. The Technician who'd seen lots of the world and always added to the Doctor's stories; the gang was all here and she was the one OUT. In her voice I knew all that perfection didn't count because she was alone. We were two souls sitting in a cubicle in a Office suddenly aware of each other and our hearts and dreams. You could feel it. The love of the World. The Great Heart.
"No, they give me a hard time."
"I'm sorry," I said, 'now I understand."
"Now we understand one another."
"Yes, we do."
I stood up and hugged her. She was a human being. She was trying her best. She didn't mean to be perfect, to have walls, to have rivers and barbed wired and boundaries you were not supposed to cross, and she was as much a victim as a perp. A perfect doll. I loved her then. Sure, I could love her, God gave love to all, it flows everywhere. It wasnt to be, of course, I was married and had three kids and one of them was getting looked at in the next room. Actually, it was she who hugged me, grabbed my hand,
"now we understand one another." She said again.
God. I wish I could do something. I can't do anything. I can't fix you from here. I can't even fix myself. We are all of us on the same path, we only think it's different because the scenery fools us. We are alone. and when we see each other, truly see, we rejoice in the knowledge that God is Great, God is Good, and He put us here not to be fixed, but to be seen, to be understood.
So you understand completely, she got to be seen, to be understood and forgiven. A moment happened. I saw a lady. The lady saw me. For a moment in time there were no laws or boundaries but just people. And people are very lonely, and they need to be recognized.
munk
