DelBloggolo: IT WAS A DENTIST KIND OF DAY!

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These four rabbis had a series of theological arguments, and three were always in accord against the fourth. One day, the odd rabbi out, after the usual "3 to 1, majority rules" statement that signified that he had lost again, decided to appeal to a higher authority.

"Oh, God!" he cried. "I know in my heart that I am right and they are wrong! Please give me a sign to prove it to them!"

It was a beautiful, sunny day. As soon as the rabbi finished his prayer, a storm cloud moved across the sky above the four. It rumbled once and dissolved.

"A sign from God! See, I'm right, I knew it!"

But the other three disagreed, pointing out that storm clouds form on hot days.
So the rabbi prayed again:

"Oh, God, I need a bigger sign to show that I am right and they are wrong. So please, God, a bigger sign!"

This time four storm clouds appeared, rushed toward each other to form one big cloud, and a bolt of lightning slammed into a tree on a nearby hill.

"I told you I was right!" cried the rabbi, but his friends insisted that nothing had happened that could not be explained by natural causes.
The rabbi was getting ready to ask for a VERY big sign, but just as he said,

"Oh God...," the sky turned pitch black, the earth shook, and a deep, booming voice intoned,

"HEEEEEEEE'S RIIIIIIIGHT!"

The rabbi put his hands on his hips, turned to the other three, and said: "Well?"
"So," shrugged one of the other rabbis, "now it's 3 to 2!"

Once again I went to the dentist, and this time he started off on the wrong foot.

My appointment was for 2:00 PM and at 2:35 I got up from my chair, went to the receptionist and angrily and pointed to my watch. She looked up and in alarm went running into the back as I sat down again. I decided if I wasn’t taken in the next 5 minutes, I was leaving. The receptionist returned and gave me a lame excuse, and after the five minutes was up I got up to leave, and as I was just about to exit, they called my name.

Now if you say meet me at 2:00 PM, I arrive before that time so no one waits for me, that I think is a common courtesy that we should all extend to each other, and if one of us is going to run late, then please advise the other party.

Esmeralda escorted me to the exam room as I sat down.

“How are you today?”

“ANGRY!”

“OH! Sorry.”

Esmeralda is not shall we say top-flight material, she kind of lacks poise or femininity along with some common sense. We are not all geniuses, particularly yours truly, but that is life and I happen to like her. I felt bad that I snapped at her.

Now every time I go to the dentist I say a little prayer before he starts to work:

Dear Lord, I know I haven’t been the best lately, but if we can get by with out the needle, you know, the one that he sticks in my mouth and lovingly lingers there for about 6 weeks as he slowly, and I mean slowly pushes the Novocain in, then takes out a second needle and starts all over again, I’ll try to behave. And if he doesn’t use that drill I’ll donate all my money to holy things and such. I’m truly sorry about what I just thought about the young lady in the waiting room, and maybe that guy isn’t an old geezer after all. Amen.

Suddenly Dr. Enamel walks in and shakes my hand, which is a good idea, since I can see how steady he is today but my prayers will once again go unanswered as he will drill and needle me to numbness.

“Hi, how are you we are going to do the lower bridge today is that right?”

“Right”

As I am lowered into oblivion, suddenly he appears over me with his trusty q-tip and says: “Open”

Stupid me opens, and he starts the long process of sticking a cotton q-tip in my mouth with that awful tasting pre-needle stuff, then comes the needle.

All I can see is his hand and the needle, close up. I look for steadiness and sobriety on his part, especially since it is after lunch and he’s wearing a mask, so I can’t smell his breath! S L O W L Y he sticks me, giving it a little body English he maneuvers his hand sideways, the needle has been in my mouth since yesterday and as he pulls it out I think, Thank God THAT’S over! He returns with another needle: Oh no! Yes,

S L O W L Y he sticks me again with the same routine.

“Let me know if you feel anything” he says to me, but I can’t, you see my mouth hurts from the needle too much to tell him to go to Hell.

Since he is putting in a bridge, he will drill, sand and buff, using about 1,000 pounds of high explosives, and this will go on all day until the cows come home, and there are no cows within miles!

Esmeralda plays a very important part in this agony, spreading my mouth open, hosing it down or sucking the air out so that it becomes impossible to not gag and cough. She has no idea that my lips are not leather and that she is pressing them against my teeth with her tools of mass destruction. I look up at her and to break her grip on me, say: “I’m sorry I was cross with you before” and rub her hand. She in turn melts and says its all right as she strokes my arm. Suddenly Con Ed who is tearing up the pavement in my mouth interrupts this love fest!

It is 4:45 when he is finally done as Dr. Enamel gives me instructions for what to do for the rest of the day. My head is too emaciated by the severe beating it took for the last two hours but I get the general idea, GO HOME!