Wildly Inappropriate Conversations

I have a new dentist.

My former dentist retired. Dr. E was not at retirement age, but he didn't enjoy being a dentist any longer, a fact he freely admitted during our final appointment. As I would prefer that the individual working on my mouth actually like his/her job, I found his blunt honesty refreshing. Dr. E sold the practice to Dr. T, but comes in on Thursdays to help out and work towards wrapping up ongoing cases.

Dr. T is young, hipster cute with dark eyes and curly dark hair. My first impression was that this was the type of guy I would want my daughter (or son) to marry if I was a Jewish mother. When I repeated this observation to one of my sister-in-law's, she laughed and replied "you know you are getting old when stop looking at attractive guys for yourself and start trying to pair them up with someone else".

Both Dr. E and Dr. T recommended that I have work done to cover up exposed root surface on two teeth. Dr. T described the pain as "one step up from a cleaning", so I cheerfully scheduled a follow-up appointment.

Obnoxiously early for my follow-up appointment, I was the lone individual in the waiting room when a man around my age walked in, announced that the world was biased against men because the restroom door was locked, and grabbed the key sitting on the counter.

He walked back to the men’s room, only to discover that 1. The key didn't fit and 2. The men's room was unlocked. He walked back into the waiting room, put the key on the counter and proceeded to make a comment that it was not safe to leave the men's room unlocked, as "a pedophile priest could be waiting to molest a good catholic boy like me".

He left the waiting room again to avail himself of the facilities of the unlocked men’s restroom, located on the 15th floor of a downtown office building, as I sat staring into space, with a polite smile frozen to my face.

I have some ideas about what would motivate an individual to make such weirdly inappropriate remarks to a member of the opposite gender. Most of my ideas are based on the possible delusion that I still look young enough to harass in a roundabout manner.

Fortunately, I was called for my appointment shortly after the man returned, sparing me the discomfort of conversation.

As it turns out, my threshold for pain, at least when it comes to the roots of my teeth, is low enough to warrant Novocain. The procedure was quick and done without mishap, aside from the dental hygienist spraying both the dentist and myself with the water pick.