Scared straight

Tonight I left work early for an appointment at a new dentist’s office.  The only criteria considered for the move was location, location, location.  Ten blocks from home.  Okay, location, location, and cheap co-pay.  You know the saying — Quality, speed, and price.  Choose two.  I was hoping I hadn’t sacrificed on quality.

The waiting room was sparsely, but tastefully, decorated with a black leather couch and matching end tables.  Atop the coffee table in front of the sofa lay two large books — Serial Killers and Dead Men Don’t Talk.  I’d already signed in by the time I noticed them, and feared what would happen to me if I drew a line through my name and exited. 

I waited quietly.  They’d get no complaints from me.  The seemingly-nice receptionist (but who really knows her motives) showed me to a room full of the usual — the chair, maybe a leather strap or two, and lots of little tools that can do damage.  I noticed an extra large roll of plastic wrap.  The small print read, “Cutter included.”  It sounded suspicious. 

On the wall, mounted, was a picture of Snoopy.  Normally Snoopy offers a level of comfort.  Then I read the print under the sketch, “No way out.”

This may be the wave of the 21^st century — dentists using the “scared straight” technique of teeth straightening.  You decide.

P.S.  I like my new dentist.