SO LAST WEEK I went on a date with a dental hygienist because why not? But then we were sitting there at the god-awful restaurant and we’d already gone through a couple dozen awkward silences when I finally got the balls to ask her about it.
“So, I mean, do you like it? Like being a dental hygienist?” She mumbled something but I couldn’t hear her because I was already four more questions in. “I couldn’t do it, you know? I think I’d go nuts if I had to look in mouths all day. But you don’t mind it? I mean... doesn’t it sour your impression of mouths? Or even hands! God! Hands. Your hands are in there every day, rubbing against teeth and everything, all day.”
I thought I was making great conversation but she was just looking down at the shitty food I was going to have to pay for because I’m uglier than she is and it’s 1975 all of a sudden? And I couldn’t stop myself. That happens to me all the time, I can’t stop myself.
“I heard if someone ever bites you it’s worse than a dog bite, like you’ll have to take antibiotics for months and you can lose whatever part of you they bite, that’s how dirty human teeth are. And you have to touch them all day? All day! Every day! Wow.”
I gave her a second to respond and she tried to change the topic but really meekly. It was pathetic watching her try. It was really doubly pathetic because she was so damned pretty. Maybe it’s just Edmonton, but all the dental hygienists here are gorgeous, even the dykes. It’s like the default occupation for beautiful women too dumb or meek to do anything worthwhile, I swear. I couldn’t figure out if that’s why I was sweating, or because I was just enjoying our conversation so damn much.
“Hey, you must have held some teeth in your time, right? I mean, when they come out of a patient or whatever, someone has to pick them up after. I know I know, they drop them on the tray. But after that. Do you ever feel bad when a tooth comes out? Do you ever caress it? Like try and console it? It’s useless after its out, isn’t it? I mean, you can’t recycle teeth can you?”
I wiped the sweat from my forehead with my napkin and it was soaked, but without the sweat to get in the way I finally got a good look at her. She’d coalesced with her chair, her tiny, pretty little ribs sticking out from under her shirt as she absolutely avoided looking at me. She’d even stopped picking at the food, and her cheeks were red, probably because everyone was looking at me. I’d never seen a more beautiful woman.
“And what about dentists?” I said. “People always talk about the suicides – you know, the high rates? But I don’t get it. Dentists have the best job. You get the money of a doctor, but you don’t have to work crazy long hours and no one’s going to die if you fuck up, you just have to fix it. I don’t get why dentists are so depressed. It must be the teeth. Do you think so? Is it the teeth that do it? Are teeth really that disgusting?”
So anyways we wound up back at her place to fuck and the first thing she pulled out, I mean from an industrial-sized container, must have had ten thousand of them: a god damn dental dam. She dangled it in front of her pussy and after she was done I looked up at her and asked her, through the latex, to marry me. I can\'t stop myself sometimes.