Icebox Records

ok
So it wasn’t a fun morn­ing at the dentist’s office today.  First, there was a lot of pathetic small talk bull­shit hap­pen­ing, mainly: “so…where do work these days?”  I hate this kind of small talk…it’s why I don’t go out to get my hair­cut any­more.  It’s too much.  Sec­ond, they had this high school intern girl in there watch­ing the whole time.  As if I wasn’t stessed out and shak­ing and sweat­ing in my chair already, this made me really uncom­fort­able.  They’re numb­ing me up and drilling my teeth and telling me what’s up and there’s this girl stand­ing in the cor­ner who shouldn’t be there watch­ing the whole thing.  Not cool.  Then, at the receptionist’s desk, dis­cussing what’s wrong and my options, while all these peo­ple wait­ing can hear every­thing.  Shouldn’t these things be dis­cussed in pri­vate?  Some dude who looked like my dad was just watch­ing and lis­ten­ing to the whole thing.  Why should this fuck know any­thing about my med­ical his­tory?  Then my mom (who gave me a ride there) decided not only to give the recep­tion­ist (who was being very nice) a hard time, but also to start in with com­ments like “It’s a good thing you’ve been brush­ing all this time, because it might’ve been four or five teeth com­ing out instead of one” and “your father refused to brush his teeth, that’s why he has almost none left”.  The whole right side of my face felt like a bas­ket­ball.  I just wanted to go home and be alone.  And that’s what I did.  Get­ting out of the car my mom handed me five rolls of Life­savers.  I’m sorry.  I guess I just don’t understand.