"Here He Is, the Leader of the Plaque!"

To those of you who have no idea where that quote comes from, the title of this blog may sound just a little corny. Of course, I know exactly where it comes from, and I still think it's corny. Regardless, I think Steve Martin's rendition of "The Dentist Song" (that's where I got it) in "Little Shop of Horrors" makes at least one part of that movie worth seeing many times over.

Have you ever had a song stuck in your head for days and days at a time, but you have no reason why? I have, except I knew exactly why I kept hearing Steve Martin sing about shooting puppies with a BB gun, poisoning guppies, and bashing the heads of cats in. It was all in anticipation of my dental appointment today, my first in about three years.

I don't know this for a fact, but I think a lot of dental hygenists are women. It seems to be one of those professions with two X chromosomes, so I naturally assumed that the person who would be cleaning my teeth today would be a woman; if I were lucky, she would be an attractive one. Consequently, today I dressed to impress. I wore clean jeans and a shirt. Also, in order to make up for several years of substandard dental care, I brushed my teeth vigorously, flossed between all of the teeth I could conveniently reach, and used minty-fresh mouthwash to kill at least 99.99% of the bacteria in my mouth. Rinse, repeat, etc. I didn't even eat anything this morning because, after all, how embarassing would it be to go to dental appointment, and while you're talking to a pretty girl, discover that you have stuff between your teeth? I wasn't about to let that happen. I even thought about pumping some iron and exercising a little before going; that way, I could draw her attention away from the grossness in my teeth (Unless you have cavities or root canals, you only have one opportunity to impress a dental hygenist, and I didn't want to mess this up by having her stare at my teeth).

Anyway, I went into the dental office and began filling out paperwork because it was my first trip to that particular orefice. I gave my information to the receptionist, and she told me to wait until someone could see me. After two minutes of sitting and wondering, the hygenist finally came out and said, "Jeffrey?"

She was...a dude.

He was not impressed. Neither was I.


Now, I know what you're thinking: Did that actually happen?

No, it didn't. It would have been funny, but no, it didn't. The only true part of that story is the fact that I went to the dentist, I didn't have any breakfast, and I wore clean jeans. I think.

Here's what really happened. I went to the dentist today. I had not been in a while, so I knew the cleaning woman would have a lot to do in there. Turns out I was right. Three years of tartar buildup is not fun to clean, and it's even less fun to have cleaned.

Of course, the girl was attractive; at least I think she was attractive. Between the mask and whatever she had over her head, all I could was her eyes. They were very nice eyes.

As she proceeded with dusting and polishing and vacuuming, she asked me questions about myself. I could tell she was digging me, so I surprised her and me by flirting rather aggressively. I said clever things like "ooh-ah-ah" and "ee-ee." I even went so far as to say, "Ah-ah-ooh-ooh," which she found so hysterical that she had to stop stabbing me in the gums with her ice pick. Of course, why wouldn't you laugh hysterically at a grown man with a mouthful of spit who sounds like a chimpanzee looking for love?

Well, that lasted about thirty minutes. That's when I found out that she was married, that I had been living a lie for the last half an hour, and the only thing she was digging at that moment was plaque and tartar buildup. I felt bad that I had been flirting with someone else's wife, but that's the hazard of the job for her, I guess. I would have kept my mouth shut from then on, but unfortunately she kept saying, "Open up."

When she was done, I politely said, "ay-ooh" and left to pay my bill, "destroyed but not defeated" (from Ernest Hemingway's The Old Man and the Sea). After all, there's an ocean full of dental hygenists waiting for a shot at these beautiful teeth. Let me at 'em.


Now you're making stuff up again, aren't you? you ask. Of course, I am. But there's nothing fun, funny, or exciting about going to have your teeth cleaned. You want the truth, Truth Nazis? Here it is:

I went to the dentist today. The girl cleaned my teeth. I had no cavities. I paid them money for it, and I left. There you go. Happy? Laughing? Uh...no. Didn't think you would. Just remember: sometimes a little lie well-told is just much more enjoyable than a little truth that bores your eyes out of their sockets. And see here Emily Dickinson, I don't care what you say (see "Tell the Truth but Tell it Slant"); sometimes the truth is better when it's sideways or upside-down.