Today I tried hard to think of a friend who has a job that is not inherently interesting and guess what? I can’t.
This is not to say that everyone I know has thrill-a-minute, 110% excitement all day long at work. It’s just that everyone I know, whether they’re working a cash register at Burger King or staring at lines of computer code for hours upon hours, ends up with a cache of Good Work Stories to tell.
And it’s for this reason that I will never be a dentist.
There really wasn’t any possibility of this actually happening before, for the record. In fact, before my Dentist Friend began regaling us with tales of mouths gone horribly wrong I found the idea of that line of work …well, let’s just say it takes a special person to do it, and I am not special.
Dentists really have it rough. I mean, regardless of how fabulously you keep up your oral hygiene they still have to peer inside and poke around to check things out. And, if I understand it correctly, not everyone maintains such fabulous oral health. So for every minty-fresh, picture-perfect, toothpaste-commercial smile they see, I’m certain there’s a waiting room full of truly terrible dental trainwrecks awaiting them.
And then there’s the fear bit. Are you looking for an occupation that causes young children to scream at the sight (or mere thought!) of you? Or do you want to work with adults who need to be heavily sedated before they can interact with you?** Then maybe Dental School is the right choice!
So throw in the people who genuinely fear the dentist, along with those who cannot afford it or simply feel it’s not necessary, and I imagine you get a lot of people who just sort of… don’t go.
Like, ever.*
Until, of course, something’s gone Very Very Bad.
Like, “my teeth are falling out of mouth and the pain is so bad I can’t breathe” bad.
Imagine the absolute treat that’s in store for their poor dentists once their frightened little gobs are coaxed ajar.
Yikes.
Also, this ad came in the mail a few weeks ago: an almost full-page, full-color piece of cardstock.
This is the first image that caught my eye:
What accepts most insurances (which, incidentally, doesn’t sound like a real word)?
What the hell are they advertising?
Oh. Of course.
*Ew.
**actually, that’s almost a selling point
the sloppy copy 
Aw.
Also, you ARE special. Very special. Just not the kind of special where you choose daily to dive up to your wrists into the dark, moist abyss of human oral infection. One gal’s “special” is another gal’s “masochist,” but c’est la vie.
Ha! 🙂
I suppose “my” kind of special is choosing to be paid to be screamed at on the phone and be told to do inappropriate things to myself and my employer.