an open letter to my dentist.


Dear Dr. [name redacted, because really, I’ve never actually seen you and am not sure of your actual existence],

You, sir, are quite the service to your community. In fact, I don’t even know how you manage to make the time to earn enough money in order to get by in these modern times. Every time I attempt to call, you’re busy! Sheesh, it must be difficult on you – it appears as if you can’t even afford a secretary!

Your voicemail says that you begin your day at 8 am. Good for you! Attempting to beat the rush and add that extra hour for us silly nine-to-fivers is classy and generous, no question. Your voicemail also indicates that your office closes at 3:30 – that’s OK, I know after a long day’s work scraping the plaque off of kids’ teeth while they wrangle around in your chair probably makes you wicked tired.

Of course, I must confess that attempting to reach you during the day has been difficult. It must be that you are so preoccupied with wonderful dental care that youare unable pick up the phone. That’s alright. Hey, if I was being worked on with sharp metal tools in the vicinity of my eyes and throat, I wouldn’t want to have you be distracted by a phone. And like I’ve already noted, it does seem a bit too much to ask you to hire a receptionist for little ol’ me!

Also, the whole you taking a nearly two-hour lunch? That’s fine! I wish I could do that! (Don’t think I wouldn’t, if I were you.)

So, I don’t blame you for being too busy to pick up the phone, or too cheap to have someone pick it up for you while you sit on your ass reading People magazines from last year all day, or whatever it is that you actually do. And while I think I should be commended for having the wherewithall to keep calling day after day, only to get your response that I should call back later unless it is an emergency; and although I’m starting to feel like there’s actually no way I’m getting an appointment anytime between now and next March, I can’t possibly shame a man of such high community valor.

Don’t you worry about me. You just keep working the less than six hours a day that you usually do. I’m sure we’ll meet someday.

With warmest regards,


P.S. Isn’t that cartoon funny? It reminds me of you!

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Filed under general stupidity., matters of the teeth.

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