This morning I had my semi-annual dental appointment. Because they were fitting me in, I didn't get to see my normal hygienist and, instead, saw this sweet young thing who has been out of school, maybe, six weeks. Ouch. No, literally, OUCH!
She was quite aggressive in her probing and scraping. Now let's make it clear that I floss and brush morning and evening and sometimes in between (unlike certain men in my past!). She said, "your gums are sensitive." No, Honey, my gums are not sensitive. Your dog must have bitten you as you walked out the door this morning and you're taking it out on me.
Did I complain to the girls at the front desk as I left, after getting a hug and well-wishes from my dentist? No. What's the point? I'm not going back. Someone who's got to go back and see this pick-wielding fiend can complain. I'm walking out the door with my angel-patient label intact.
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