I'm Scared of the Dentist

I'm not scared of many things. Spiders don't bother me. I don't mind public speaking. I've seen "The Shining," like, 4 times. There's not much that can bring my normally manly, brave self running for cover and screaming in terror, but the dentist is absolutely one of them.

I went to see Dr. Teeth today, and no, I'm not talking about the leader of the Muppet band. I'm not sure what my dentist's name is, I like it better that way. I wouldn't have wanted to know the names of the guards at Auschwitz either. Now, I'm not comparing dentistry to the worst thing to happen to the Jews since they raised the price of the nickelodeon to 7 cents, I'm just saying that the dentist is a horrible experience. Kind of like the first time I kissed a girl. It makes me scared, nervous and there's normally plenty of spit. Oh, I forgot to tell you that my first girlfriend was a pitcher for the 1978 Montreal Expos.

Today, I decided to take the subway/metro line to Dr. Filling, and no, I'm not talking about Oprah's mustached "doctor" buddy. I say "decided" to take public transportation because I don't have a car. Therefore, there was no actual decision. I either take the subway or walk approx. 13 miles alongside a highway. Now that I think about it, I should've walked. Maybe I would've been hit by a car going 70 miles per hour and it would've been slightly less painful than going to the dentist. So, because of L.A. County's finest public transpo, I'm running a bit behind schedule and show up a few minutes late. By the time I'm walking into the fear factory, I notice a voicemail from the place where nightmares go to get scared asking if I'm coming in for my appointment. That's like Freddy Kreuger calling to confirm your reservation at Elm Street's Neighborhood Block Party. I'll never understand why they put Freddy K. in charge of such a joyous occasion.

I show up and am immediately escorted into the chair of a thousand pant shitters. I don't know if people actually shit their pants in that chair, but it wouldn't surprise me. I mean, there's a Taco Bell AND a Del Taco right next door. I psych myself up for my teeth cleaning/butt clenching and think to myself, "Well, it could be worse. I could be watching "Man of Steel" on blu-ray." Then I realized I don't own a blu-ray player, so the dentist just beat Superman.

I'm not going to bore you with the details of my visit with Dr. Smile, and no, I'm not talking about some birthday party clown who secretly pleasures himself to youtube footage of 7 year old's limboing. I will just leave you with this little piece of advice for all you dentist fearing folk: Next time you're in the dentist chair, awaiting your fate, just think about how great it'll be when you're old and have no teeth... I'm gonna go buy some polident right now.