Life and Other Funny Things

Love in the waiting room

Going to the dentist was never the traumatizing experience for me as it is for most people. Mostly because all the teeth that I’ve ever had pulled out were properly anesthesia-d (why anyone would get them pulled out without the anesthesia is completely beyond me) and also because I meet the nicest people in the waiting room.

One of my favorites is the very hot Iranian guy I sat next to last time. See, while this may shock you, I don’t usually get to sit 6 inches away from good looking foreign men. It was a nice change.

Yesterday I sat next another handsome foreign man. He was eyeing my umbrella. I don’t like to get wet in the rain, I told him. “In Bombay we have a saying,” he said “never trust the girls or the rain!” We laughed, he was charming and we talked about everything but teeth. Which was a nice change from the cute Irish man who was so scared of cavities he wouldn’t stop talking about them.  Then the lady called my name and I had to go inside to meet the dentist. I don’t think I’ve ever actually wanted to sit out in the waiting room more. I didn’t want to leave him. He was absolutely perfect, everything I’ve always wanted in a man.

I waved a goodbye to him as I opened the door in slow motion like in old-time romance films. My heart gave a little tug. I felt like I was standing at a train station and my train had just left while there was nothing I could do to stop it. When I finished my treatment and rushed out to see if he was still there. He wasn’t. I tried to get his name. But the receptionist kept giving me the same monotone answer “I’m sorry miss, we are not authorized to give you this information.”

Why?! Why doesn’t she understand that this man could be my soul mate? Doesn’t she see that she could be keeping love apart? What if we never see each other again? What if I missed my chance?!
Even after I told her all this she wouldn’t tell me anything. That [CENSORED]!

But I feel it in my heart that I’ll see him again. I know I will. Perhaps in December just before the world ends. The cities are flooding, buildings are falling, and he and I see each other through the crowds of screaming people. We run towards each other and…


Or maybe not, since he had a walking stick and was about 80 years old. Then I’d finally be able to ask him why he was at the dentist, considering that he didn’t have any teeth.


2 thoughts on “Love in the waiting room

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