Trying to move on

I want to tell you about a recent demeaning experience I've had.

It happened a week ago and I thought I've moved on and there was no need to post about it. But my mind keeps revisiting it and each time it does, I feel a little lump in my throat and a churn in my belly. So obviously I haven't moved on.

Last week, exactly one week from this hour, I went to go get my semi-annual teeth cleaning at "the only game in town" for grad students. Seriously, this place has a monopoly because they're the only one accessible by foot, which is the quintessential student m.o.

So naturally, I begrudge them their exhorbitant monopolistic rates and question whether they are "real" dentists anyway. Many a time I've gotten estimates of how much a cavity filling would cost, only to have them inflate it by 200% when it came time to pony up. They are no better than a crooked auto-mechanic. Seriously I should sick the Feds on them and write a letter to the Dept of Health and Human Services or something.

Anyway, so I was dragging myself to the teeth cleaning and when it came my turn, I was greeted by a portly middle-aged white woman. Nothing bad so far. But I do remember wondering, "Who is she? I've never seen her before. Where's the middle-aged Hispanic woman that usually takes me to the chair?" But then...and here is what I can't stop reliving...

She sits me down on the big dentist chair and as I recline uncomfortably, she starts thrusting a sharp pick into my gums repeatedly. I can feel the blood trickling from my bludgeoned gums, down the sides of my tongue, and into my throat and I want to scream, "What the hell are you doing?!!! Is this your first time?!" But it gets even worse.

I don't scream. I politely "take it." And as she's leaning into my face, her surgical mask just millimeters away, she burps.

A wet, stinky burp.

Yeah, I'm not talking about a polite exhale of air that can be mistaken for a hiccup. Ok? I'm talking: I heard gurgling as that burp made its way as an angry peptic mass from the gut to the esophagus to the mouth, until it finally exploded into her mask.

I think I smelled a faint hint of onions.

And then she burped again. And again. And again. All in all, I probably endured five wet burp clouds exploding near my defenseless gaping mouth until she finally said, "Ok, why don't you rinse."

I spat out a mouth full of salty blood. I glared at her.


I felt so small and helpless. And dirty.