So, this afternoon I was sitting in the dentist’s chair, mouth full of the hygienist’s tools, and it was absolutely awful. But not in the way you’d think.
This hygienist is great at her job. She’s competent and gentle, she’s patient with the kids, and she has no problem maintaining a one-sided conversation for as long as it takes. Today, she got on the subject of movies.
“Oh, I saw this Adam Sandler movie once,” she said, “It was ‘Mr. Smith Goes to Something Something.’ [ed. note: did she mean this?] Something like that anyway. I think it was supposed to be a remake or a parody of that old one with what’s-his-name. Oh, what was his name?”
Oh, God, it was killing me. She didn’t stop working to let me swish until several minutes later, and by then she had moved on to another topic altogether (how her stepson won’t propose, I think), and it might’ve seemed strange if I had yelled out “JIMMY STEWART! IT WAS JIMMY STEWART!”