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November 10th, 2005, 11:42 PM

Haven't been around in awhile...
How are ya...

The attached story is still a growing boy. It came from a word game that I played at a writing workshop recently. In the game someone chose 5 words and I was supposed to write a little prose (500 wds or less) or a poem containing them. The words made me think of my most recent visit to the dentist. A dentist that I'd been going to for about the past five years. She was the weird ass from hell that sent me running out of the place with my mouth bloody wondering what she'd just done, and how she could get away with such a horrible practice without so much as a lawsuit. Not one. Ever. I checked it out.

Turns out, folks like it that way.

The story will probably grow into something else, and in my effort to be consice, I chose to take only a little snapshot of a much larger picture.

Have fun,

The Dirty Dentist

Darren Arnaud

The morning seemed normal enough as I walked into the waiting room of her office on East Avenue. A dental practice that’d been there for the past decade helping our little community and many of it’s surrounding areas with mouth service for quite a while. She rolled into town that first year about a week before the start of the official holiday season, which in my mind was always just before Halloween. She’d been there ever since, chatting up the patients in that surreal, late night, table talk, way that made you feel like you were truly the main event. Made me think of Charlie Rose when she’d ask those deeply personal questions that where obviously intended to evoke the maximum emotion in a response. Always seemed out of place if you ask me. I mean why the hell does this lady need to know what I want to do with my life after I leave this room? She made me feel like I was backstage at a TV show ready to go live and national in front of millions of fans. And I knew the only fans that’d be cheering me on were those little, whining, devil, drill bits made to scrape off the rotten crap that collected on my teeth over the past six months.

She’d numb you with her words before she sat you in her chair and put the gas on you. All the while reeling you in for one of the bloodiest oral surgeries in town. A Delicatessen of Dentistry and she was the Beautiful Butcher. It never seemed to matter how bad she was, after word got around that she hacked up people’s mouths like a monkey in a chop shop.

Her customers liked it.

It also didn’t surprise me that most of her clientele were men; men who enjoyed sharp drills and big needles in the hands of a beautiful lady.

I sat down in that mechanical monster called “The Chair” and she strapped me in. I asked if she did this to all the folks who came in here and she assured me that she did. She didn’t like squirmers.

Dr. Smothers, Dr. Rebecca Smothers: Family Dentistry (General Practice).

Read the thick, black, type on her card as she passed it in front of my face. That bright light blinded my vision and blackened her presence as she slipped the gas mask over my nose and mouth. She counted backwards from ten. When she got to number five things started to echo. Sentences passing from her lips became books of revelation.

I’m strapped in, helpless, and high as a kite. She’s like a god and that’s all right.

I laughed through it all, and it wasn’t until after I’d noticed the large amounts blood on her arms, hands, and face that I knew something was definitely wrong with this picture.

I could no longer talk. She’d sewed my mouth shut and handed me a pen. She said write all your words and never sin. There’ll be no more decay inside your mouth, cause no more junk’ll get in and no more shit will come out.

Copyright © 2005 Darren Arnaud

November 11th, 2005, 02:33 AM
It's good to see you again, Darren! I enjoy reading your stories. :)