She wasn't just older. She was MUCH older. I wasn't at all comfortable with her age when I first saw her, but she was sweet and kind. We met at 11 and I was with her until 2:30. She seemed confused and experienced all at the same time. She was sloppy and unsure at certain moments, and yet confident and secure at others. Her uncertainty made me uncomfortable, but I decided to just lie back and allow it all to happen. It felt really weird and unsettling when she pushed her aging breasts against my face, but again, I said nothing, and just let her do her thing.
When we were done, I had some mysterious white substance all over my face, and I was in a bit of pain. As I looked in the mirror in the lobby on my way out of the building, I struggled to wash it off with a tissue and some spit, but it was as if the substance was cemented on. I would have to wait till I got home to scrub it off with a wash cloth.
It's been two days since I saw her. I'm supposed to call to see her again next week, but I don't want to see her. I don't want to go through that experience again.
I will call, but this time I'm going to insist on seeing a different dentist. This 70 year old broad took way too long and was way too messy. It shouldn't have taken 3 and a half hours to put a post filling in a root canal, and my face shouldn't have been full of that cement they use to solidify the temporary crown. That belongs in my mouth. And as far as the breasts in the face thing, I'm almost always okay with that, just not when said breasts are attached to a septuagenarian and she's using them as leverage to get a better look into my mouth. I'm sure she was a fine dentist back when Neil Armstrong walked on the moon, and beehive hairdos were all the rage, but those days are long gone, and this woman needs to put her drills away and retire.
Happy Turkey Day to you all!