Dentists Make Horrible Jokes

There's been a popcorn kernel stuck in my back left molar for a week now. I've done everything. Brush. Floss. Salt water rinse. None of it works. I keep tonging at it, and my jaw has become sore. Sometimes I'm almost certain that there's nothing there. That I only think there's a kernel; or there was one at first, but that I've gotten so used to tonging it that I can't accept it not being there. But, no.  I can't believe that. I can feel it there, just embedded.

    I tried to make an appointment with my dentist, but she is very busy. I told her it was only to help get this popcorn kernel out of my teeth, and that it would only take a second.  This would be the second time she's helped with a stuck popcorn kernel. The last time she said she didn't see anything. I pointed right at it with that metal pick of hers, but she said there was nothing there. I'm pretty sure when I was pointing at it that I ended up dislodging it, because as soon as I left the office I went to tongue it and it wasn't there. After that I promised myself not to eat popcorn anymore, but clearly I forgot.

    My dentists name is Tanvi. She isn't really a dentist. Not yet, at least. She's in her third year at dentistry school. It's a good place to go for cheap cleanings and to get cavities filled.  The first dentist they assigned me was named Anthony. He was fine, I guess, but when I went for a cleaning he didn't do a very good job, so I asked to be assigned to someone else. That's when I met Tanvi. She was perfect.

    Tanvi is Indian and I can tell she shaves her arms. Or at least I think that she does. She's not one of those girls, though, who cares a great deal about how she looks, which is the mystery of the whole thing. That she shaves her arms, I mean. Shaving her legs would be one thing, but the type who shave their arms care a great deal about aesthetics. So it is rather strange to find a woman who shaves her arms, but whose hair is always unkempt, and who never wears any make-up.

    I keep trying to imagine what Tanvi would look like with a bit of makeup. Not that I think she would be any less beautiful, that's not at all what I'm saying. I only mean that if we were on a date at an Italian restaurant, it goes without saying that she would put some on -- at least a little blush or eyeliner or something. But I guess she could be one of those girls -- women, I mean --  who never wears makeup. Who doesn't even own any.  Maybe that's it. Maybe that's why I can't seem to imagine it.

    I'm pretty sure she likes me because whenever we have an appointment I have all of these funny little jokes or things that I am going to say. Last time I told her this funny story about a fish out of water. I can't really remember how it goes, but it was really funny, and she laughed exactly how you'd want someone to laugh at your joke about a fish.

    I know what you're thinking, that maybe she just laughs at everyone's jokes like that. But see, the way it works at this dentist school is that you have to get a final check by one of the professors, who is a real dentist. Certified, and whatnot. When one of these professors (who are always men, for some reason) come over, they are always trying to say funny things, and make you laugh, and touch your shoulder, and hack away at your mouth with their little picks.  Tanvi always laughs at their jokes, but it's in the exact way you'd expect someone to laugh at a professor's joke, which is completely different than how she laughs at mine. (There was one she did laugh at a bit differently, but to be fair, he was jewish, and Jews are just funny no matter what they do. But the rest of them, not so much.)

    I have to admit that I have masturbated to her twice. It was a very hard thing to do, because the entire time I couldn't stop hearing her say sorry. Something you should know about Tanvi, she's a very quiet, gentle sort of person. When I first met her she was apologizing about everything. She just said sorry this and sorry that. I told her that she apologized a lot, and she was about to say sorry, but instead she laughed. (She has a really nice, calming sort of laugh). Tanvi's the sort of girl -- woman, I mean -- who when she was a kid always had an umbrella in her back pack. Not because she was worried about getting rained on, but because her parents worried her about her getting rained on. (Her parents were always fussing over things, I'm sure.) The point is that she is really timid and nice, and while it's a good thing for a dentist, I'm not sure how great of a thing it is for sex. (I have a lot of experience with sex. I know a lot of things. I really can tell if someone would be good at it or not, and with Tanvi it's hard to picture. I'm not saying that I'm a Casanova or anything, but I think I know enough to say that if someone is apologizing all the time when you're trying to make love it can get in the way.)

    The funny thing about this dentistry school is that there's no receptionist, or anything. I mean, they have this woman who calls the dentists on an intercom, but there's nobody to make appointments with. The first time I called the school to make an appointment the woman on the other end gave me a time to show up, and that was that. Once I met with Anthony everything was through text message. Even after the whole Antony debacle, when I met Tanvi, it was all through texting.  In general, I don't mind this all too much. It's pretty neat to be able to text your dentist directly to make an appointment. But when you have to wait five days for a response, it can be a bit of a pain.

    Tanvi isn't really all that good with text messaging. I know what you’re thinking,  but she doesn’t pick up when I call her, and you can never be sure if people check their voice messages. It's not really Tanvi's fault, though. I mean, if you knew how hard they worked them at this school you'd have a hard time getting angry. I was talking to her once about what kind of free time she gets, and she told me that she only has Fridays off, but that there is so much studying to do she never gets out. I asked her how much there could really be to know about teeth (there are only 28 in a grown adult -- I looked it up), but as soon as I said it, things seemed to change. At the time, we were having this really nice, quiet conversation, and once I said that thing about teeth, she just shut down and asked me to hold the suction vacuum in place. I felt really bad, so I gave her a compliment. I told her I really liked her rings (she has these three gold rings on her finger, each of them with a different color stone), but she didn’t saying anything, just dipped the polisher into that bubble gum flavored tooth cleaner and asked me to open wider.

    That night I could hardly sleep, and the next day I tried to think up the best way to make it up to her. I thought about sending her flowers, but figured someone who doesn't wear makeup probably isn't going to care all that much about a bouquet of roses. Then I thought, maybe I could wait outside of the dentistry school and offer to buy her lunch or dinner, or something. Knowing her, she would probably say that she wasn't offended, but I knew she wouldn't be telling the truth. I would tell her I felt really bad and show her the gift certificate I had bought on Groupon for that really good Indian restaurant near the school, the place with the free nan bread. But when it came down to it she said she was really busy, and had to be getting to class. I told her she looked like a completely different person in everyday clothes, and she said thank you, but that she really had to be going. I was holding the gift certificate, because I wanted her to know I wasn't just saying I had a gift certificate. That I actually had it. She said it was very sweet of me, and that she took no offense to what I had said, and that there had really been no need to come all this way. I told her that it was no problem, and I told her to take the gift certificate anyway, because it only cost me four dollars and she could get twenty dollars of food. She refused at first, but after a bit more insistence she finally accepted.

    Later that week, I texted her to see what she had ordered. It took her almost five days to get back to me. I was this close to calling the school, or going down there, or something. I mean, I was sort of nervous, you know. I thought something really bad had happened to her. But right when I was about to go down there I got a text from her, so I knew she was okay.  Her text read:  havent gotten to go but thank u it was vry thoughtful. That's just an example of how busy they keep her over there at the dentistry school.

    It was more than five days this time, before she got back to me. But like I said, this popcorn kernel is driving me crazy.  I just couldn't hold out anymore and I messaged her that I would just come by the following day and hang out in the waiting area and if she had a spare moment she could take a quick look.  I guess I rushed things, because less than an hour later she texted me with an appointment time for Friday afternoon, which seemed strange because I knew Friday was her studying day. But, then I realized that she was coming in just to help me out.

     I was so grateful, so I went onto Groupon and found a really good Italian restaurant, something that had a lot of good reviews.  I almost went for the twenty-five dollar gift certificate for eleven dollars, but then realized we might very well end up getting some wine.  I could tell that she was waiting for this sort of opportunity, and that I should be ready for the occasion, so I went ahead and got the fifty dollar gift certificate for twenty dollars. Before when I'd asked her to dinner she told me that when some time opened up she would be happy to do something.  She had clearly made the appointment for later in the afternoon so she could get all of her studying out of the way.

    When Friday came, I went to the library to print out the coupon. I already had one printed out, but I wanted to have a spare. You never know how the printers at the library will be working, so I went very early, just in case I would have to go to a Kinkos or one of those Pakistani printing shops. (If you're ever between Kinkos or one of those Pakistani printing shops, go for Kinkos. Those Pakistani printing shops charge three or four cents more than anywhere else. (I really don't know how those places stay in business.))

    The library printer was working, though, which gave me six hours to get to the appointment. Even if I walked all the way there I would have had three hours to spare, so I went to the Salvation Army to see if they had any shirts nicer than the one I was wearing. But there was nothing good there, so I went to a Barnes and Noble and picked up a dentistry magazine to brush up on some things to talk about when we were out to dinner.

    At about one-fifteen I decided that I could start walking there. When I was on my way, though, it started to rain. In all my excitement I had not checked the weather.  I started to get really anxious. I hadn't brought an umbrella, and I was wearing my white New Balance sneakers, so I went into a Starbucks and sat and looked out the window. It was only an hour to go and I checked to see that the gift certificate was still intact. It struck me that she might not like Italian, but then I figured that everyone likes Italian, and that if she didn't like Italian then I would have been wrong about everything.

    The rain wasn't letting up, so I decided to get myself prepared. I asked one of the ladies behind the counter if I could have two plastic bags for my shoes, and she gave them to me, saying something about keeping my kicks fresh -- whatever that means -- and I covered my shoes in the bags. I was going to have to take a taxi, so I went into the bathroom to get my emergency money from the pouch under my shirt.

    I stood under the awning on the corner blowing my gym whistle for almost ten minutes, but not a single taxi stopped. Finally, this Jamaican man with a shopping cart loaded with umbrellas came around. He wanted five dollars. I couldn't very well tell him I only had three dollars, while I was holding the ten, so I ended up paying full price. Once he'd given me change, I texted Tanvi that I might be a few minutes late and apologized, and then ran out into the rain.

    As soon as I was half way up the block the umbrella turned underside up, and within seconds I was drenched. I should have gone and asked for my money back, but there just wasn't enough time, so I trudged on. I started to get worried that the gift certificates would be destroyed, but then I realized the pouch under my shirt was waterproof. So that was a relief.   

    By the time I got to the dentistry school I was so wet that I was dripping full puddles.  I was able to dry off a bit in the bathroom, but I had to throw out the umbrella because several of the metal wires had bent in the wind, and it was impossible to close. I took off the plastic bags and left them to dry and I combed my hair in the mirror. I checked that the gift certificates were okay and then went out to the waiting room.   

    I texted Tanvi that I was there, that I had made it on time, and was waiting for her. The air conditioning was very cold and because I was wet, I was sure I would catch a cold.  I picked up a Daily Metro that someone had left on the seat and looked at the head lines and some of the pictures. I kept checking the time and looking around to see if I could spot Tanvi anywhere, and at three thirty-five, I went to the front desk to have her paged.

    'Who is your appointment with,' the woman asked me. She was very fat, like orca fat. She didn't even fit on the chair. She was chewing bubble gum and she looked at this long list.

    'Huh,' she said.

    'Huh?'

    'What's your name sweetie?'

    'Warren Biggens, the third,' I said.

    'Biggens…Biggens,' she said. 'There you are sweetie. It looks like we got you down for an appointment with Jake.'

    'Jake? I don't know any Jake,' I said. 'Tanvi is the girl -- lady -- I see.' I asked her to check again, but she just picked up that tiny intercom microphone.

    'Jake…Jake you're needed at the front. Jake please come to the front.'

    I was starting to shiver, knowing for certain I was getting pneumonia. In a moment this large, shiny nosed Indian man walked directly toward me with his arm extended out.

    'You must be Warren.'

    He took my hand and before I knew what was happening he was ushering me toward the back. I had no idea what was going on and I started to look around.

    'Where is Tanvi,' I asked him. He was still gripping my hand, and had his other arm around my shoulder. He must have been a wrestler at some point, or a linebacker -- he was very broad shouldered. He enveloped me so completely that any chance of escape, or even a cry for help was pointless.

    'She wasn't able to make it in today,' he said smiling at me. She asked me to take a quick look at you.'

    'I'd really be much more comfortable if Tanvi could take a look at it.'

    'Don't worry about a thing,' he said. 'I'm as gentle as they come.'

    He sat me in one of the dentist chairs, and pulled on those purple latex gloves and took a seat in the low swivel chair.

    'So what's ailing you bud?'

    He had these giant hairy forearms, and his hands were enormous.

    'There's a popcorn kernel stuck in my back left molar. Number seventeen,' I told him.

    He was impressed that I knew the names of the teeth, and made some very unfunny joke, which I'm glad I can't remember. He asked me to open my mouth wider (probably because he needed to see around his enormous hands), and then began axing at my mouth with his metal pick.       

    'Yep, there it is,' he finally said, and he axed at my tooth with the pick, jabbing me right in the gum, so that I started to bleed.

    'Got it right out,' he said. 'That ought to take care of it.'

    He peeled the gloves from his hand and poured water into one of those small little cups and made some very unfunny joke about flossing, which I'm glad I can't remember. But that is just how dentists are. Way too aggressive with their pick and making all sorts of horrible jokes.