Conversations

I had four convos today worth shairng:

1. With my dental hygenist. Some background: Today was our second encounter. Last time I saw her, I came close to having an all-out anxiety attack. Her hair was messy, she had a cold (lots of sniffling  under the mask, coughing into the hand), and had some other things about her appearance that irked me but I’ll leave off of here. Not to mention the cleaning was dreadfully uncomfortable. What did me in was that she used my mouth guck littered bib to wipe my face (no, not even a clean end). Imagine scrubbing your face with used floss. No thank you. I ranted and raved about my experience all day/night after it happened. Needless to say, when I walked in today and saw I was about to embark on a similar experience with her, my heart (and facial expression I’m sure), sank. But holding on to a glimmer of hope, I asked:

Were you the one who did my cleaning last time?   :::   Yes, I think so. (Bummer)   :::   Did you do something to your hair? Highlight it or something?   :::   Oh yeah! Yeah, after the chemo it grew back a lot darker than it used to be so I decided to lighten it up.

BAM, punch in the gut for being a judgemental little bia. Serves me right. She was recovering from lymphoma last time I’d seen her. Hell, I go to work looking worse than she did that day sometimes and I did not have cancer to blame it on. I’m a jerk.

2. My Dentist

So, you want Invisalign, huh?   :::   Yeah, but I don’t want to pay what you quoted me for it. I set my kitchen on fire not too long ago, had to pay for that and now rent went up a lot (woe is me).    :::     What’d I quote you? Oh here it is, $5,200. You really want it?    :::    Yes, I really do.    :::    Ok, fine. I’ll do it for less.

Less ended up being significantly less, which rarely happens! Straight teeth on the way. Woop woop.

3. The ice machine fixer man. I walk into the kitchen and then:

Hi, did you need to get ice?   :::   No, thanks. Is the machine broken?   :::   Oh. No, it’s just got some black mold growing on it (and with a comepltely straight face), sure you don’t need any?   :::   Um, no. I’ll just take a Dr.Pepper.

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