So, I finally did it. I went to the dentist. As I expected, it went a little something like this.
Dentist: So, when was the last time you’ve been to the dentist?
Me: Well…I don’t wanna lie. It’s been 4 years.
Dentist: Wow. Four years. Why so long?
Me: Just graduated college, didn’t have insurance…
Dentist: That’s not a good excuse.
Me: Yeah, I know.
Dentist: You know, you should really go every six months. It’s not that expensive. In fact…
Yeah, no shit. I know that. I know I didn’t go on my “scheduled” time. Sorry if I missed that postcard you sent out to remind me. But I didn’t go. This is exactly why I haven’t been to the dentist in 8 years. Yeah, that’s right. I totally lied. It was actually 8 years ago, when I graduated high-school – not college. And you know what? I didn’t have a single cavity.
After you hit the two year mark, you know what really kept me from going back? A fucking lecture from the dentist about how I need to go more often. I don’t need your lecture. You’re not related to me. I didn’t ask for your advice on this matter. It’s like seeing an Ex on the street, and having the conversation go like this:
Her: Hi. You know, you really shouldn’t have slept with my sister. I think that's why we broke up.
Yeah, I know I shouldn’t have, but that was 10 years ago. Can’t we just have a regular, fake conversation? I don’t need you to judge me. I have enough people who are more than willing to do that for me, thank you.
And then, pressing his luck, the dentist said “You really need to put in the work to keep your teeth healthy. I mean, there’s no decay or anything, but just in general.” Guess what? I can let my teeth fucking rot, and I’ll pay you to fix them. That’s what you do. Don’t tell me what to do. I don’t remember seeing the word counselor or mother above your office door.
I’m sure you would hate putting your kids through college on my dime.