899 words about - the "ROOT" of all evil

The dentist.

It is recommended that you visit the dentist at least once every six months. This seemingly sound advice is given by your local dentist.

It is quite common, in the UK at least, to find it very difficult to arrange an appointment to see your dentist or to make a suitable appointment.
There is a very good reason for this....

Using the Bumferry Hogart patent pending Paranoia scale of outrage and cross referencing the results with the all new and improved youcouldntmakeitup-o-matic it is quite clear that the dentist, or rather YOUR dentist is on the fiddle.
Many years ago I was told that one of my teeth needed to be extracted as it was in a bad way or ill or something.

I thought to myself “no flipping way!” that is what I thought. “If it’s coming out I’m doing it... anyway it doesn’t even hurt!”

And so, I never went back. I calculated that if my tooth did actually need to be pulled then it would be best to wait until it did hurt quite badly and then just nudge it with my tongue until the little bugger fell out, like baby teeth do.
Days turned into months and months into years and to this day I do have a single filling. All my teeth are still there – just not in the right order – and I am in no pain inside my mouth and gums what so ever.



My dentist on the other hand only managed to go on three holidays that year instead of the mandatory four minimum.

This is the reason it’s so hard to get an appointment at the mouth doctors.
They are never bloody there.

You could be sat at home unable to enjoy the bowl of salty peanuts or thick chewy toffee your other half has treated you too all because of a sharp pain at the back of your mouth. You decide that enough is enough and phone to make an appointment.
The receptionist (who has been brought in at short notice and doesn’t know how the computer works) is abrupt and surly with you on the phone. Which is not what anyone needs when they are in pain.

She makes no effort to sympathise with your ordeal and instead utters the words “what do you mean?” and “whaaaa...?” for what seems like an age.

Of course the sounds coming out of you now inflamed pie hole are nothing but the murmurs of a deranged ferret because when you try to say “can I make an appointment to see my dentist as soon as possible because I am in a huge amount of paid and need his expert advice.” What you actually say sounds a lot like “aaaaa uuurgh ferfugsake aaaaam iinnn aaaa-ooonay. Aaah neee doooo eeee da den dis baaaooow!”

After what seems like an eternity, the receptionist takes what little detail she (or he, don’t want to seem sexist and patronising now ladies eh?) can about how you NEED to see the dentist tomorrow, she (or he) informs that you that he is fully booked for the next three weeks.

Bother!

This is a lie.

Your dentist is in fact on a beach somewhere sipping cocktails and enjoying the samba beat through the distant sound of calm waves lapping at the shore.
You are banging your head against the wall in a vain attempt to sully the agonising daggers that are forever searing the flesh of your gums and jaw.

The holiday that your dentist is on was paid by the four root canals and 13 extractions he (or she – calm down) performed in the last fiscal quarter, thus allowing himself to bugger off with his normal receptionist (could be a he and/or a she in both cases... it is the 21st century y’know) and have a whale of a time at, what is quite literally, YOUR EXPENCE.

There is no proof of this and would be denied by any member of the dentistry profession but I bet, if you were to ask your dentist if he is going on holiday soon and say it with a nodding wink and a nudge – just before he has a look in your mouth next time you go for your regular check up - I bet he will give you the all clear and send you on your way through guilt.

This could have a down side...

Vaguely accusing your dentist of swindling his clients out of money on a regular basis just so he can swan off to warmer climates and have it off with the floozy on the phones may just result in you having to be put to sleep for a “very important and intrusive operation that needs to be performed right away without any delay or struggling from you, so if you would just breathe deeply Mr. Hogart.... there’s a good chap...”

Next thing I know I’m found in a skip round the back of the shops minus my pants, two whole days and two molars. In my top pocket were copies of photos of me I don’t remember posing for, especially as I don’t own any lipstick and I am allergic to cats.

If ever you needed a clearer message to understanding why it is so important to brush your teeth, then my experience won’t just have been a horrible sexual intrusion.

Carry on – carefully.