An appointment with the Dentist

On sunday, I wore my favourite Bathing Ape Sweather and paid the dentist office a visit.

The office contained not one, but 4 dentists.

"Please sit at the chair." No chair have never looked so unwelcome in my life than that chair, surrounded with equipments.

A dentist came in.
"Hello dear! What grade are you in?"

"Grade 10"

"OH REALLY? Wow, so …" The word short couldn’t come out of her mouth.

Then she walked out after putting something on my desk. It looked like a card with information about me on it. I wasn’t sure. I sat, trying to look and feel relaxed. But this certain instrument that resembled an instrument of torture so much caught my attention, so scared that I couldn’t feel relaxed, even if you gave me a nice, leather chair to sit on.

Another dentist came in. I tried my best to smile.

"Hello! What grade are you in?"
"Grade .. 10"

"OH MY GOODNESS?"

"Yes, I know I’m kind of short .. but"

"Oh no no no, you just look really young that’s all"

"Oh."

And that was the end of that. She walked out.

Third dentist came in.
"OKay, we’re going to take pictures of your teeth."

Before I could replied, she was shoving this and that and taking pictures.

"Good, thanks! By the way, what grade are you in?"

I really just wanted to write GRADE 10 on my forehead by then, but I grinned, with all my effort and said, hoping that it’s my last time ever saying it; "grade ten ma’am."

She mumbled something, although I can’t remember what it was.

So the fourth dentist came in, explained that the condition of my teeth is perfect, and that all it needs is some cleansing. This time around, the second dentist that came in earlier came in, started adjusting my chair in a position that looked like I was about to be operated, and indeed. Two dentists head floating above, and the light shining on my face, it really did look like an operation was about to take place.
"Why hadn’t I wear an uglier sweater." I thought to myself.

At the end of the operation, they took out this instrument, it made horrible sounds and spins around madly.

"W-what is that?" I said, my voice was high.
"Oh, it’s just to polish my teeth." The dentist replied with a smile that she thought was an encouraging smile, but I read it as an evil smile.
"..It looks and sounds horrible."
The dentists laughed, as if I was making a joke.

So the operation was done, and gave me a brief lecture. Then I left with a free toothbrush in my hand.

"I AM NEVER GOING TO THE DENTIST AGAIN." I had said to dad.

But I couldn’t help grinning at my new, "polished" and cleaned teeth.