I had to visit my dentist today to be fitted for a bite guard. Apparently I’ve started grinding my teeth at night and he’s not too happy with me.Anyway, my dentist knows that I am a writer. Whenever I’m in he checks with me to see what I’m working on and what I’m reading. We swap information about titles and authors to look for.
Today was no different. When he saw me in the chair, my mouth full of impression goo, he had to stop for a chat. He checked what I was reading (a Whitney finalist) and told me about his latest title (the Charles Schultz biography). We compared notes on titles we’d recommended to each other.
Now you’re really thinking I must have very bad teeth, I’m sure. So, just let me clarify that I have 4 children who also use the same dentist. Yes, I’m in there a lot. It’s just not always for me.
Back to the story.
After checking in with me and assessing my teeth molds he declared that he needed one more (darn) and then bid me farewell.
A few minutes later, as I am once again drooling with my mouth open and full of nasty tasting stuff that reminds me of that “great stuff” expanding foam you can get in a calking tube, he walks past the door of my exam room again and informs the technician not to let me go yet. Hmm, I’m being held captive by my dentist. I’m sure there’s a story in there somewhere.
We sit chatting and scheduling my next appointment after she was gracious enough to remove the “stuff” from my mouth when my dentist comes back in with a large box of books. It seems he has been purging his bookshelves to make room for more books. He just happened to have them in his car to drop off at the flea market for resale.
I spent an extra few minutes in my dentist’s chair happily looking through titles and discussing plot. I left with a stack of 10 new books to read. Ah, bliss.
The euphoria lasted until I got out to the reception desk and had to pay for my new bite guard. I guess it was too much to ask to get new reading material and have a rich uncle mysteriously swoop in and pay all my medical expenses.
The moral of the story:
Never be afraid to tell people you’re a writer, and
Always be on the lookout for a fellow avid reader, you never know what you’ll walk away with- even from a trip to the dentist.
3 comments:
I wish my dentist gave me books!!
I have 8 kids at home, so I see the dentist way more than I want to. His wife wants to write so he's always asking me questions about writing. He's a great dentist.
Tristi,
Obviously you're seeing the wrong dentist. Rebecca even found one who lets her talk about writing. Get on the ball lady-friend! What could you have possibly been thinking only checking if he took your insurance but not if he was a book lover?
:)
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