I had a nightmare about my dentist the other night. I dreamt that he was part of a weird sexual cult, and was trying to indoctrinate me into it. He showed up wearing a wet leather fetish outfit and a thick gold chain, bearing Black and Decker power tools. I am not recounting this as an attempt to reinforce negative sterotypes about dentists, but if that is the effect I have, I can live with that.
I hate going to the dentist. I just hate it. I went last week where, to my horror, it was uncovered that I have two cavities underneath previously filled teeth. So I have a whole lot of fun coming next week when I get this fixed. The whole meeting went badly, seeing as my Swedish failed me miserably. It started:
"How many times a year do you go to the denitst?" he asked (or so I thought.)
"Once." I said, feeling very virtuous indeed.
"Once?"
"Once."
"Once?"
"Er, yes. Any more than that and I will admit to an S&M craving."
"You only floss once a year?"
"What?"
"I asked you how many times a day you floss."
"Oh! Sorry. I don't do it daily, but once or twice a week."
At this point Nurse Ratchett the dental hygenist swooped in.
"You don't do it after every meal?" she screeched.
"No, I have a life." I replied.
"Honestly?"
"Look, I brush in the morning and before bed. And anytime I eat something dodgy and will be asked to perform sexually." I felt defensive.
She whipped out a picture of an ice cream cone and a candied apple.
"Do you know how much sugar is in these?" she asked tersely.
"Don't know, can't you buy the kind made with Nutra Sweet?"
"Do you?"
"No, and I don't care. I don't eat them."
"Use your imagination. And imagine yourself flossing after every meal."
Whatever. Takes up valuable imagination space in my brain for other more entertaining things.
The dentist spoke Swenglish to me the rest of the appointment (Swedish + English). It resulted in the best Swenglish-ism I have heard to date.
Bear in mind, the Swedish word for cavity is "hål". Pronounced "hole".
You can see where this is going, perhaps.
As I left, he said to me:
"See you Monday, when I will fill your holes."
Sorry buddy, you don't even know me. You have to buy me a drink first. And I am not flossing after I drink it.
-H.
Posted by Everydaystranger at September 5, 2003 11:15 AM | TrackBack